+18 Gay Roleplay's

A Call From The Heart ❤️

"Are you sure it's safe to be going out this late, Dr Dunstan?"

The concern in the voice stopped the man who turned and faced his Housekeeper. Verena had been nursemaid and nanny in his childhood and now the matronly, grey-haired woman kept his house. He smiled reassuringly at her.

"If I cannot be back by dark, I will keep well away from danger," he replied.

Verena smiled sadly at the determined man before her. She could scarcely believe it was over thirty five years since Dunstan had been born. He was now a doctor, like his father before him, but neither of his parents was alive to see it. Both had died over ten years earlier during a plague that that ravaged the town. It was luck, or fate, Dunstan had been away studying and she had gone to visit her sister that had saved them.

Dunstan had grown into a fine man, tall and broad like his father and inheriting his mother's fair hair and ocean-blue eyes. A light-blond goatee beard adorned an expressive, sensual mouth. He was liked and respected in his home town and popular with his patients. His practice was both successful and busy. There had been a call for him to visit a pregnant woman, heavy with her first child, on the outskirts of town. Even with his horse, Dunstan might not get home before darkness fell.

This night of all nights.

The eve of All Saints' Day.

Allhallows Eve.

"You will take care?" Although phrased as a question, the tone brokered no argument.

"I will, Verena. If I am not back before dark, lock the house and I will return before daybreak."

"I understand, Doctor," Verena nodded. Impetuously she gave him a hug that was returned with equal affection. "Be safe," she whispered, as he disappeared through the door.

****

Dunstan growled as he trudged through the thick foliage. The mother-to-be was now fine, but it had taken much longer than he had anticipated. He would never get back home before dark. He left his horse tethered inside the forest that encircled half of the town and sought shelter from the oncoming storm he could feel in the air. He stopped, suddenly certain the sound of voices had carried to him. Glancing in the direction the moon would rise that night, but not espying its light, Dunstan veered from his course.

Now that he could hear the voices, he felt anger rise within him.

"Please, I am innocent, I did not touch Morton's cow. You must believe me, please."

The sound of flesh on flesh made Dunstan's jaw clench and he hastened forward.

"Silence, Nosferatu," came a harsh, uncultured voice. "Your kind is as bad as those that feed on us. Well, no more. We will leave you tied here for the sun to take care of."

"But it will take days for me to die," the first voice sobbed. "And I have done nothing except spurn your unwanted advances, Morton."

Dunstan stopped to peer at the scene before him and felt his stomach roil. A half-naked youth was tied to a tree, his face and chest bearing the bruises that spoke of his ill-treatment. His trousers were also torn, revealing the skin at his hip and a wisp of the hair at his groin. Dunstan recognised Ranald as the captive, as well as Morton and two of his cronies. Drawing himself to his full height, he strode forward and demanded angrily:

"Just what do you think you are doing?" He purposely directed his question at the weakest of the group, Morton's men; Rodney and Owen. "Do you want to hang?"

"No, sir, Dr Dunstan, sir," Rodney spoke quickly. "But Master Morton here says it was Ranald as killed his cow and we need to take care of him if no one else will."