Cross posted from Madrona Project
May. 19th, 2016 11:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kiramaru7Title: The Tale of the Conflicted Heart
Author: kira
Word Count: 1025
World: The capital city of Madrona
Main Characters: Shankar Chandrasekhar, his brother Ashok, and Shankar’s intended Sitara
Borrow: No
Summary: Shankar Chandrasekhar lies awake at night, thinking about his betrothal to Sitara, while trying to ignore the feelings he has for his friend, Vikram…
Author’s notes: This was written for May’s Merry Month of Masturbation, using an old Bingo! Card from DW’s allbingo combined with a few of my own prompts to make a table.
Special Thanks to Kat for letting me borrow Shankar & pinking this fic.
Please note this takes place before The Tale of the Spice Merchants and the Elf.
Shankar Chandrasekhar would soon be officially betrothed to the daughter of his father’s friend. Sitara, short and very beautiful, was a few years younger than himself. She and Shankar’s younger brother, Ashok, practically grew up together. Shankar’s marriage would unite their families and further strengthen a friendship between their fathers that went way back. It also made him the envy of his friends. Yet, instead of being excited about it, Shankar had mixed feelings about getting married. It had not helped, that Ashok declared “he was going to marry Tara too” when he was told about it.
Unable to sleep, Shankar sat up in bed. The night was hot, so his kameez lay discarded next to him on his bed. As he let his eyes adjust to the darkness, Shankar tried to image what it would be like to sleep in the flower bed with Sitara. He could picture her naked body with his mind’s eye; the soft swell of her bosom, the gentle curve of her hips, the dark tangle of curls above her thighs like the cards with sketches of the dancers from Licentia that his friend Vikram had shown him and several of their friends. Shankar remembered being embarrassed by it, as well as the talk that went along with it. Vikram had claimed to have visited the place on a trading mission with his father and that they went to see a show that had naked women dancing around on stage as well as a woman who had lain back and fondled her folds. Shankar had been horrified by the idea that a woman would do such a private act in front of a room full of strangers and as entertainment for the masses no less. He remembered being mortified when Vikram went on to tell his friends about playing with his cock while thinking of that woman and how it made things so much more pleasurable for him. Shankar recalled it doing nothing for him, but that was because he preferred the company of his friends to girls.
His thoughts straying to Vikram, Shankar felt himself grow hard as he imaged being with him. He shook his head and tried to think of Sitara instead. He rubbed his cock through the soft cotton of his salwar to no avail. Thoughts of his future bride did nothing for him. It was only when he thought about his best friend that he grew hard again and the half-hearted stroking grew more and more pleasurable. He paused, not wanting to climax in his salwar. Shankar quickly untied them and carefully pushed them down over his cock and past his knees to his ankles. Leaning back against the headboard, Shankar resumed stroking himself. He moaned softly. Letting his imagination run wild, he pictured himself touching Vikram’s naked body and being touched in returned. He often wondered what it would be like to lie with him as he would a woman.
This time, Shankar imagined his friend’s hand stroking him, and rubbing his rough, calloused thumb on the head of his cock. He moaned as the little waves of pleasure ran down his spine to pool deep within his cock. His breathing quickening, Shankar felt himself rushing towards his release as he stroked harder and faster. Eyes closed tightly, Shankar felt himself falling over the edge as he climaxed hard with a deep, shuddering breath. He lay there, basking in his sexual high, until a wave of shame and guilt washed over him. His cheeks burning, Shankar hated himself for fantasizing about his friend instead of his intended, but he could not help himself. The feelings he had for Sitara were those he would have for a sister, if he had one. What made things worse, was the feelings he had for Vikram. They were the kind one would have for a lover… or a wife and not a friend. He mentally berated himself for them, when it hit him. Perhaps there was a way out of his betrothal without upsetting anyone. His other problem, namely his attraction to men, he would simply ignore for the time being. Getting up out of bed, Shankar kicked off his salwar and walked over to the wash basin in the far corner of his room. Picking them up, he pulled them on again, before getting back into bed. While he could never reveal his true feelings to Vickram, perhaps he could speak to Sitara and to explain how he felt. Maybe, just maybe she could help him find a solution to this mess. As he tried to will himself to sleep, his bedroom door opened; part of the solution to his problem was standing there, in the dark.
“Sha…? I can’t sleep…” Ashok said softly.
Sighing softly, as he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, Shankar lifted the thin cotton sheet. “Come’re, Ash.”
Ashok crawled into bed with him, the way he often did. He had been doing that for as long as Shankar could remember, so much so, that he did not even bat an eyelash over it. With a start, he realized that once he married Sitara, his brother would no longer have a place in his bed. Nor did he think Sitara would welcome him in.
“Feel better now?”
“Yeah…”
Shankar could hear the smile in his brother’s voice. “Good, then go to sleep.”
“Okay…” Despite the heat, Ashok snuggled in, drawing comfort from his brother’s presence. The household was a mix of excitement and disarray over the betrothal, and whenever he insisted he wanted to marry Sitara too; their mother would slap him and call him an idiot. Confused and upset over it, Ashok acted out, causing more of their mother’s ire directed at him. Yet, somehow, without him having said a word, Ashok knew his brother would make things alright. He drifted off into a content sleep.
Shankar, lay there, listening to his brother’s breathing even out as he fell asleep. Any hope of falling asleep too, was dashed by the heat and his own mixed emotions over his betrothal. After a while, he managed to drift off into an uneasy sleep.
Author: kira
Word Count: 1025
World: The capital city of Madrona
Main Characters: Shankar Chandrasekhar, his brother Ashok, and Shankar’s intended Sitara
Borrow: No
Summary: Shankar Chandrasekhar lies awake at night, thinking about his betrothal to Sitara, while trying to ignore the feelings he has for his friend, Vikram…
Author’s notes: This was written for May’s Merry Month of Masturbation, using an old Bingo! Card from DW’s allbingo combined with a few of my own prompts to make a table.
Special Thanks to Kat for letting me borrow Shankar & pinking this fic.
Please note this takes place before The Tale of the Spice Merchants and the Elf.
Shankar Chandrasekhar would soon be officially betrothed to the daughter of his father’s friend. Sitara, short and very beautiful, was a few years younger than himself. She and Shankar’s younger brother, Ashok, practically grew up together. Shankar’s marriage would unite their families and further strengthen a friendship between their fathers that went way back. It also made him the envy of his friends. Yet, instead of being excited about it, Shankar had mixed feelings about getting married. It had not helped, that Ashok declared “he was going to marry Tara too” when he was told about it.
Unable to sleep, Shankar sat up in bed. The night was hot, so his kameez lay discarded next to him on his bed. As he let his eyes adjust to the darkness, Shankar tried to image what it would be like to sleep in the flower bed with Sitara. He could picture her naked body with his mind’s eye; the soft swell of her bosom, the gentle curve of her hips, the dark tangle of curls above her thighs like the cards with sketches of the dancers from Licentia that his friend Vikram had shown him and several of their friends. Shankar remembered being embarrassed by it, as well as the talk that went along with it. Vikram had claimed to have visited the place on a trading mission with his father and that they went to see a show that had naked women dancing around on stage as well as a woman who had lain back and fondled her folds. Shankar had been horrified by the idea that a woman would do such a private act in front of a room full of strangers and as entertainment for the masses no less. He remembered being mortified when Vikram went on to tell his friends about playing with his cock while thinking of that woman and how it made things so much more pleasurable for him. Shankar recalled it doing nothing for him, but that was because he preferred the company of his friends to girls.
His thoughts straying to Vikram, Shankar felt himself grow hard as he imaged being with him. He shook his head and tried to think of Sitara instead. He rubbed his cock through the soft cotton of his salwar to no avail. Thoughts of his future bride did nothing for him. It was only when he thought about his best friend that he grew hard again and the half-hearted stroking grew more and more pleasurable. He paused, not wanting to climax in his salwar. Shankar quickly untied them and carefully pushed them down over his cock and past his knees to his ankles. Leaning back against the headboard, Shankar resumed stroking himself. He moaned softly. Letting his imagination run wild, he pictured himself touching Vikram’s naked body and being touched in returned. He often wondered what it would be like to lie with him as he would a woman.
This time, Shankar imagined his friend’s hand stroking him, and rubbing his rough, calloused thumb on the head of his cock. He moaned as the little waves of pleasure ran down his spine to pool deep within his cock. His breathing quickening, Shankar felt himself rushing towards his release as he stroked harder and faster. Eyes closed tightly, Shankar felt himself falling over the edge as he climaxed hard with a deep, shuddering breath. He lay there, basking in his sexual high, until a wave of shame and guilt washed over him. His cheeks burning, Shankar hated himself for fantasizing about his friend instead of his intended, but he could not help himself. The feelings he had for Sitara were those he would have for a sister, if he had one. What made things worse, was the feelings he had for Vikram. They were the kind one would have for a lover… or a wife and not a friend. He mentally berated himself for them, when it hit him. Perhaps there was a way out of his betrothal without upsetting anyone. His other problem, namely his attraction to men, he would simply ignore for the time being. Getting up out of bed, Shankar kicked off his salwar and walked over to the wash basin in the far corner of his room. Picking them up, he pulled them on again, before getting back into bed. While he could never reveal his true feelings to Vickram, perhaps he could speak to Sitara and to explain how he felt. Maybe, just maybe she could help him find a solution to this mess. As he tried to will himself to sleep, his bedroom door opened; part of the solution to his problem was standing there, in the dark.
“Sha…? I can’t sleep…” Ashok said softly.
Sighing softly, as he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, Shankar lifted the thin cotton sheet. “Come’re, Ash.”
Ashok crawled into bed with him, the way he often did. He had been doing that for as long as Shankar could remember, so much so, that he did not even bat an eyelash over it. With a start, he realized that once he married Sitara, his brother would no longer have a place in his bed. Nor did he think Sitara would welcome him in.
“Feel better now?”
“Yeah…”
Shankar could hear the smile in his brother’s voice. “Good, then go to sleep.”
“Okay…” Despite the heat, Ashok snuggled in, drawing comfort from his brother’s presence. The household was a mix of excitement and disarray over the betrothal, and whenever he insisted he wanted to marry Sitara too; their mother would slap him and call him an idiot. Confused and upset over it, Ashok acted out, causing more of their mother’s ire directed at him. Yet, somehow, without him having said a word, Ashok knew his brother would make things alright. He drifted off into a content sleep.
Shankar, lay there, listening to his brother’s breathing even out as he fell asleep. Any hope of falling asleep too, was dashed by the heat and his own mixed emotions over his betrothal. After a while, he managed to drift off into an uneasy sleep.
