Owen knew that this could never leave here. He knew that if it did he was a doomed man. But he couldn't help but feel a tremor of enthusiasm ripple through him, his legs twitching, his lip quivering as he felt Martin's body grow more flush against his own. The sense of closeness that he never really had with anyone else outside his one girlfriend. A low, desperate moan fought its way out of his mouth, and Martin whispered in his ear, "You've been good. Feel free to touch me, too." And that made Owen grunt and feel his cock grow thick with need.
Owen's uneasy hands rose up and he touched Martin with the awkward, shaky behavior of someone utterly new to this mode of pleasure. Owen had had sex with his girlfriend, true enough, but this was the first time his fantasies about men - in particular Martin - became a reality. The young man's hands first clasped Martin's shoulders, thumbs drifting up and down a muscular delineation and then feeling Martin's triceps and biceps.
Martin for his part just saw this as a way of guaranteeing more good behavior. Demonstrating to Owen just how good this could go, and what he stood to look forward to. Martin's fingers pinched Owen's nipples, rubbing them in between feeling the skinhead's pecs - and he could both hear and feel a held breath release as the younger man's blush grew.
Owen quickly returned the favor, moving his hands on to Martin's chest, and despite his usual attitude toward this, Martin himself smiled and huffed as he felt Owen's hands awkwardly feeling his chest. "You're...you're so big...so strong..." Owen whispered, "I want to---to feel you---"
"Like this?" And then the Roman moved up and wrapped his arms around Owen's shoulders in an embrace, the skinhead whimpering and quaking with lust as he felt - all at once - Martin's shoulders, arms, chest and rippling abs all pressed up against Owen's own muscled physique. The clash and interposition of their bodies against each other let their heat mingle. The crisp waters themselves started to feel a bit warmer even though the actual temperature was the same.
Owen despite himself let out a yelp and his cock correspondingly emitted a bit of pre as he felt one of Martin's hands grip his ass cheek, kneading and teasing the young man's hole. All the while, the other hand roamed across Owen's back and rear delts. "You're always fucking high strung..." Martin whispered in Owen's ear. "Makes sense that your muscles are a bit tight back here..."
Owen almost forgot that he could do things here himself - taking advantage of the position to wrap his arms around Martin in turn. Almost nervous and wary as he went to feel up Martin's ass - worried that at any time this pleasant dream might end. That he might be thrust back to the way things were. That he had pushed everyone away... the younger man moaned into Martin's shoulder as he humped against the slightly larger man's strength.
"Ohh...fuck..." Owen murmured as he felt something distinctly big pressing between his legs, resting between a thigh and his balls. That was Martin's erection. Holy fuck, that was Martin's erection. He slowly moved one of his hands from around Martin's back, down to the front. His face was colored with a blush. His desire was written across his features.
"Care to get me off, Owen?" Martin whispered into Owen's ear, right before lightly nibbling the ear - making Owen shake with need.
"Yeah---yeah...definitely, I---I really wanna get you off. Can you---?" Owen didn't want to put it into phrase. He didn't want to press his luck. To say something and then suddenly have it tossed back in his face. To end up making a fool of---
"Sure thing." Martin reached down - one hand gripping Owen's rock hard cock, the other reaching up and feeling Owen's smooth scalp, desire mixed with a soothing feeling as Martin let his hand course, gently moving back and forth, "You're a smooth one, milite. So smooth. Not much thick hair on you, even on your body..."
All the while, Owen was trying his best to jerk off Martin - employing tactics he knew from experience worked on he himself. But he was worried from how tight lipped Martin mostly was about this. He didn't make his desire and needs so readily available or so obvious. He just let Owen have his moment and requested in turn what he felt he needed. But didn't offer any progress! Owen's hand, slick from the water and eager from the experience, pumped up and down on Martin regardless.
He didn't want to leave Martin without pleasure...
But Owen was fast approaching his own release. He could feel it in the way that his balls clenched, his anus drew tight, he was having a hard time even in the water of standing upright. "I---I...Martin, Martin, I'm---I'm gonna---gonna cum soon! Real soon!" Owen finally could handle it no more and even as he kept rubbing, kept jerking off his long time crush, he leaned forward - knees buckling with the sheer weight of the pleasure setting in. His head rested against Martin's shoulder and - to his delight - Martin kept on touching him.
His hand kept rubbing the skinhead's bald scalp, drifting down and feeling Owen's neck and upper back. Easing out tightness that had been there so long, Owen barely noticed until it alleviated. "Then cum...I'm pretty close myself. For how rough you are, you've got pretty nice, soft hands." Martin whispered coolly.
"Mmmf....mmmmnnnnnngh...!!" And that was about all Owen could muster in response as he finally surrendered to his need. The ensuing orgasm was thick, heavy and saw Owen twitching and only barely managing to keep himself standing up. The presence of the water in the lake let Martin quickly wash his hand off of the cum that had erupted - almost going as far as his mid-forearm. It was pretty clear that with how Owen tried not to masturbate, he was quite pent up. Honestly, he wished the younger man would just abandon the pretense of NoFap and take care of himself...
But Martin's thoughts on the subject were interrupted by Owen's awkward fumbling finally managing to push him over the edge. Martin for his part was far more experienced, and just in time helped Owen back up on his feet...and promptly sandwiched his cock between the skinhead's thighs, right below his balls, gripping both of the street tough's legs and holding them in place. He let the muscles surrounding his cock ease him into orgasm.
A few grunts and groans were what signified to Owen that Martin was done - and before long sperm drifted along behind Owen in the water, Martin quivering a bit as he let go of his new paramour. The two of them started walking out of the water, Owen needing a moment to collect himself while Martin was far more used to moving so soon after such an experience. "Fuck..." Owen murmured and looked over at Martin's tight ass and wide, muscled back.
He couldn't help but feel like their experience was limited by Owen's own inexperience. He had just wanted that sweet, intense feeling that had come when Martin had touched him, wound him up that time, let him know the---the terms - and even though the circumstances were not ideal, what had happened was hot enough he didn't care. Almost slipping and falling in the midst of getting out of the lake, he looked around - still nude - and found that it looked like Lucky had already moved back toward the van.
After fetching their towels from the side of the lake, drying off and glancing awkwardly at each other, Martin and Owen started back toward the van - dressing all the while. Martin was starting to realize after having fooled around with Owen a few things about his younger cohort. Sweet Jesus this guy is desperate for affection. That whole time what he wanted the most was just to have someone touch him for a protracted amount of time. And here I am...using that to my advantage. Maybe it's the more military side of me this transformation brings out. The fact that I know that exploiting this need is the way to bring out the most use in Owen and the least negatives. I can at least make these occasions when they come up as enjoyable as possible.
Owen on the other hand? That---that was---I'm sure that was degenerate. But oh fuck, it felt---it felt soo good. So good. Who cares? Who cares as long as the other guys aren't here to see it. I mean, nobody from the nearby town saw, nobody was driving by. I'm just...alone with the fact I want men and women in that kind of way. And my shame. I called Lucky and Scottie fags. But what's a fag if not someone who'd do what I just did...? No. No, I---I don't---I'm not. I don't know! I don't fucking know! I know that I'm no preening queen, no mincing, unmanly modern man. But I just---I just don't even know what I am any more.
There was no such complication when he had sex with Emily. When he thrust into her pussy, let her feel how strong, how big, how dominant he was. It conformed to - and affirmed - his need to be a man. Because a real man isn't the kind of person who gets hurt by their raging dipshit of a dad---
"Hey guys!!" And there was Lucky. Shouting from the outside of the van, the doors of which had been propped open. "Hey guys!! Something's gone---gone crazy over here with---"
Martin and Owen ran over and were confronted with an incredibly bizarre sight - which had already prompted a confused stare from Lucky.
Sitting there in their van was a powerfully muscled, lightly bearded Viking man, his hair braided in a few places, his manhood still tenting the front of his tunic, and a lazy smile across his face. It was clear enough he'd watched the guys in the lake, and gotten his rocks off - several times in fact. And Owen for his part was confronted immediately with the fact that this enormous, muscular specimen that embodied the aryan masculinity he had always exalted before - was in all likelihood Scottie.
Someone who he had never given the time of day.
"Whew..." Scottie wiped off his brow, "I must've jerked off like five times watching you guys. Fuck, never thought you had it in you, Owen, to go like that. I mean, I'd guessed you were closeted but---"
"...Scottie?" Martin murmured, "What the fuck?" He seemed a little dismayed by this - the second change, the mess, the way things had turned out. "You---you really did go and---"
"Play with the Eon Chronicle some more?" Scottie chuckled, "Yeah, yeah that I did. And fuck man, you guys have gotta give it another whirl...'cept you, Owen. I don't think it likes you." There was a tinge of seriousness to that last bit. And again with that name...
Owen was conflicted. The device did not like him. Scottie was talking like this thing had a mind of its own. As if this was more than just their usual artifact that they'd bring in to some bored rich asshole with too much time and money on his hands...but on the other hand... it was like everything Owen had wished he was, had ever wanted, had stepped off the pages of the propaganda he wished he hadn't jerked off to - and right in front of him.
He quickly glanced over at Martin, who didn't seem all that bothered surprisingly enough by the declaration. Now that they were standing there, Martin just shook his head and sighed, "You just...try and not mess it up too much, okay? I don't want any cum stains on the artifact when we go and hand it over to Mr. Hartmann." And with that, Martin started walking over to the front of the van, opening the door - and opening the passenger side door, gesturing for Owen to follow.
Lucky chuckled when he saw Owen hurrying along after Martin, eager to sit next to the Roman. He climbed into the van and sat alongside Scottie - who curiously enough paused in the middle of taking his seat. Lucky teased him, "Forget how to put on your seatbelt there, barbarian?"
"...No. Just---just was thinking of something." Scottie scowled and put on his seatbelt quickly. He didn't want to admit that Lucky was right on the money. After all the doors closed, the van started to drive off. The rustling in the nearby bushes occurring outside their awareness.
---------------------
The entire time they underwent the drive toward Castle Drosstein, Owen found himself feeling like someone was constantly looking at him. Honestly it put him near instantly on the defensive. His awkwardness with the situation with Martin, with how he'd been able to act on desires he had denied for so long all faded into the rear view. He cupped the side of his face and glowered, glancing at the mirror on the passenger side - seeing that Scottie was blatantly, obviously scoping him out. Looking him over hungrily, in a way that Scottie prior would never have dared to do so.
And this entire time, Scottie had the device, that Eon Chronicle, stored under his arm, held tight. Honestly at this rate Owen was inclined to want to just toss that damned, cursed thing out the window - but Martin would never agree. He too was to a degree bewitched - and besides that, he had his eye on the money. And admittedly, with how Owen stood to be paid for this too, he could understand the imperative. He just hoped that Martin would stay Martin more - it seemed like Scottie was fast becoming someone else.
Scottie speaking of was indeed checking Owen out. He remembered the sexual situation he had so readily observed. Enjoyed the sight of Owen and Martin tussling in the waters, awkwardly gamboling toward a sexual culmination that would've been unsatisfying for Scottie but probably the most queer action Owen had ever experienced. Honestly, Scottie wanted Owen now - more than ever. He could for once take what he wanted, and not have to be ashamed or cover for it. He could have what he wanted with this body, have Owen admire the physique that so embodied his deleterious views and admit it was Scottie rather than himself...!
"So," Lucky spoke up from his seat across from Scottie, "I assume that the experience was pretty intense." He glanced at Scottie with blatant appreciation, "You and I could probably have some fun with most of the women and men around the castle-town near Drosstein. You know they love foreign boys here, and now that we're this powerful, this capable...?"
"Still into men, Lucky." Scottie retorted, though he chuckled and looked down at his form. This long sleeved top and tunic suited him well - enough he didn't care to get any new clothes. It flattered him, the long sleeved top clinging to every muscular peak and valley. "But hey, if you're willing to experiment with men, maybe I could try and experiment with women. Just---see what makes my dick feel good."
Lucky laughed outright, "That's the spirit! Man, what work this artifact has wrought on your form, friend..." And a quick few claps on Scottie's shoulder. And for his part, Lucky was starting to wonder about another trip through time himself. Maybe something even further back than what Scottie went for. Honestly, with the lack of problems he could tell from this, and how at ease he was with it already...? He could see himself just enjoying another ride. The Chronicle was a truly peerless device.
"You guys go ahead and fool around with it as much as you want," Martin announced. "I'm fine with my Roman form and features." If anything, Martin felt like the Legionnaire's form had enhanced his leaderly qualities. Made him all the better as the group's leader for it.
Owen for his part just noted how it seemed Scottie who had previously not been exactly the most loud of the group was now openly discussing sexual conquests. Nobody seemed bothered even now with how much it was changing people's minds. But he kept quiet, because he knew Martin didn't want any further problems. Even though it left him glaring out the window, watching the hills and light forests of Germany as they drove along.
The fierce greenery and open areas however were fast becoming more sparse as they approached their destination.
Taking up much of the skyline as they drove in, Castle Drosstein functioned as both fortification and estate. The massive castle had once been made for defense - likely against French aggression in the middle ages. But now if anything it had been modernized. The defenses enhanced, the measures more extensive. The silver and grey color scheme of the castle lent it a somewhat brutalistic exterior look as it loomed large over both the town and extended out over the harsh drop of the coastal area. At the middle of the castle was a singular tower, suited for looking out over all that came in and out of the castle town and surrounding area.
In the evening light, the castle looked even more imposing - almost like it was a monolithic thing, casting shadows on the entirety of the surrounding area - both the wilder outskirts and the castle town itself living in the shadow of Castle Drosstein.
It was easy for Owen to see the tower as the proof that someone who lived there enjoyed playing god. That they enjoyed to loom larger than life over the people who they deemed worthy of living so close to their accommodations. Bruno Hartmann...was a man who loved power. And much as Owen was primed throughout his life as a skinhead to approve of and call that "based" - he just...something about this just didn't seem right. It was like something was calling up within him to say there was something off here.
As Martin stopped the car outside of a hotel, he walked outside to take a call.
Thus leaving the others in the car to wait.
Scottie chuckled, "So, on top of me having hotter, heavier sex than you, I'm the one that acquired the kind of body that you'd say is "at the peak of humanity", right? What's the term that crazy old German used? Ubermensch?" And Scottie laughed even harder and said, "I mean, it's all bullshit, but I can't deny I do feel like an alpha male."
"Must suck to suck, eh Owen?" Lucky stated.
Owen decided rather than make a scene or pick a fight and get himself in trouble with Martin, he'd just leave the car. Breathing, he opened the door and stepped out into the cool, chilly air of the castle town. It was a place that seemed like it was only just modernized. Some places were still using old, old wooden houses and accommodations. This was a town that had a history of working with fish, as evidenced by the fishery near the coastline. There was a central road leading through the middle of town, all the way up through the shopping center to the castle - through which one could see a check in point manned by guards.
Owen stretched and looked around. He could vaguely hear some hints from Martin and Hartmann's phone call occurring off in the distance...but nothing really of interest. The people here seemed to be going about their daily business. They were by and large pale, oddly pale, but mostly normal except for that. Still, again, there was something that just didn't agree with Owen. He crossed his arms, suddenly aware of how chilly it was while wearing a black tank top.
Scoping out the township, Owen figured it was a mix between people who always lived here and people who worked for Hartmann. Some of the locals were watching them rather intently - and trying to make it less obvious they were doing so. But Owen basically grew up on the mean streets. You didn't survive on the streets if you didn't know when you were being watched. But still there was some vibe that someone even more distant than all these people watched them - and his glance went high - looking up at that tower.
There were some old fashioned farms near here, with a few animals roaming in grassy fields. The farmers at least seemed authentic. Still, even they had something about them that led Owen to feel a little...uneasy. There was just generally something here that didn't seem good.
Too far to see exact details. But he could swear there was just...a feeling.
Eventually, Martin walked back over and stated, "Alright everybody, outta the van." Before long, Scottie and Lucky vacated - and Martin continued once they were out, "Bruno Hartmann is in nonstop meetings today, and so we're gonna have to go in bright and early tomorrow to turn in the Eon Chronicle. He's been kind enough to buy us a stay at the hotel just here. Enjoy our night, make use of the accommodations, and get paid a nice, hefty paycheck tomorrow."
For their part, Scottie and Lucky looked at one another. Their nonverbal communication was clear as they glanced at the device resting under Scottie's arm. If they wanted more fun with this thing, tonight would be their last night with it. But even with their distraction they quickly picked up their luggage and personal items and clothes to bring in.
Owen darted back over and got his stuff as well - wincing a bit when he felt a sting from Scottie slapping his rear in the midst of bending over to grab his luggage - largely consisting of clothes and basic essentials in a ragged suitcase.
Owen shrugged - he'd personally be more than happy to just get rid of that damned thing sooner rather than later. It seemed to bring out an oddity in his friends, it made them act...off. And he wished he could say as much without...without chancing Martin deciding that was that. He had accepted the terms, and now he had to live with them.
The group went into the hotel, where they were immediately greeted by a pale, blond haired young man at the front desk, clad in a tight, well fitted tuxedo. His light brown eyes glancing over the group upon their entrance, "Ah, welcome to Hotel Regens - fruit of local investment by Mr. Hartmann. I assume you four are...Lucky Blyden, Martin Hollingswerth, Scottie Rios and Owen Bolton, correct?"
"That would be us." Martin said confidently as he stepped forward.
"I will show you to your rooms. You've been quite lucky, to be given this level of amenity by him." And with that their front desk help led them up a flight of stairs to a set of four rooms near the top of the stairs. After handing out cards to open up the doors, he quickly headed back downstairs, eager to get back to his job. He then halted and looked back up the stairs, "Ah yes. If you see a woman roaming around the town and making too much noise, don't worry about it. She's a traveling loon. A crazy."
Owen stood there long after the others went into their rooms and simply shook his head.
He opened up his room, and upon stepping in, he closed the door behind him and looked around. The room was big, and despite the rustic and old fashioned look most of the town had, the hotel room was equipped with a laptop computer, a mini-fridge, a generously sized bathroom and shower, a mirror by the two beds in the room, and multiple sheets and covers on the beds. Honestly, it all looked nicer than sleeping in a sleeping bag on the road typically was.
Owen collapsed on to one of the beds, looking at the ceiling and the rotating fan keeping the room nice and cool. He breathed...and just rested. Relaxed. Let his nerves ease up.
Then he heard a knock at the door. Heard Scottie shout at him from outside, "Hey, skinhead! Lucky and I are going out to check out the town pub, see what kind of drinks they got. How hot the bros and babes here are. I bet at least some of the farmhands are cornfed hunks. You wanna join?" A laugh and then Scottie kept walking.
"I mean, it's probably a pretty small scene here, but it's better than just sitting in your room all day, right?" And there was Lucky. Honestly it was kind of surprising they extended this kind of invitation.
Owen shook his head and wondered what to do from here. He was at least somewhat of a mind to look into whatever that guy from the desk had been talking about. The woman that was supposedly some kind of crazy person. But maybe there was something he could gather from the bar and the social scene here in the town. Maybe getting some answers would help with the vibe of the place...