Diving for Pearls
‘Cho the Giant’ – scene #2
Guys, welcome to scene #2 in the new serial story ‘Cho the Giant’. If you’ve missed scene #1, ‘A Midnight Performance’, I’ve linked to it here, and then today’s scene ‘Diving for Pearls’ follows immediately below.
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A Midnight Performance
The village of Cho's birth had no name worth remembering. It was a collection of mud-brick hovels clustered around a single well, a place where cows outnumbered people and the dirt remembered more stories than the old men who sat in patches of shade, watching the sun crawl across the sky. It was here that Cho grew, like a tree among weeds, conspicuous a…
Dawn stains the eastern sky with shades of fire when Cho emerges from beneath the boat. The beach stretches empty before him, save for a solitary figure standing ankle-deep in the gentle surf. Kreszo waits as promised, though his posture suggests uncertainty—the slight hunch of shoulders, the hands that don't quite know where to rest. When he spots Cho striding toward him across the sand, his body straightens, chin lifting as if pulled by an invisible thread. The night's voyeurism hangs between them, unspoken but palpable as the humidity that already thickens the morning air.
"You came," Cho says, stating the obvious with deliberate casualness. "Good."
Kreszo's cheeks darken, but he holds Cho's gaze. "I said I would teach you to dive."
"So you did." Cho walks past him into the water, his massive body cutting through the small waves without hesitation. He turns when the water reaches his waist. "Teach me, then."
The command in his voice dispels the awkwardness between them. Kreszo is suddenly animated, in his element as he demonstrates the proper way to fill the lungs, how to equalize the pressure in one's ears, how to scan the seabed efficiently for the telltale glint of oysters.
"We'll start in the shallows," Kreszo explains, leading Cho further out until the water laps at their chests. "The best beds are deeper, but this is where we learn."
Cho proves an unexpectedly capable student. His powerful body, built for farming and combat and intimidation, adapts quickly to the water's embrace. His first few dives are awkward—he surfaces sputtering, empty-handed—but by his fifth attempt, he stays under nearly as long as Kreszo and emerges with an oyster clutched in his fist.
"Open it," Kreszo urges, treading water beside him.
Cho works the small knife Kreszo has provided into the shell's seam, prying it apart with more force than finesse. Inside, the flesh glistens wet and naked, but no pearl hides within its folds.
"Most are empty," Kreszo explains, without condescension. "That's the game. You might open a hundred before finding one pearl."
They dive deeper as the sun climbs higher, venturing to a part of the bay where the other divers rarely bother. Here the water turns a deeper blue, and coral formations rise from the seabed like the spires of a submerged city. Schools of fish dart between them, flashing silver and gold in the filtered sunlight.
"There," Kreszo points to a cluster of larger oysters clinging to a coral outcropping. "Those are old. More likely to hold something."
They dive together, powerful legs propelling them downward. Cho follows Kreszo's lead, watching how the younger man's body undulates through the water like a creature born to it. At the seabed, they each select an oyster, then push back toward the surface.
Kreszo breaks the water first, shaking droplets from his golden hair. Cho surfaces a moment later, his massive shoulders rising like twin islands. Without waiting for instruction, he works his knife into the shell, feeling a different resistance than before. When the oyster yields, something catches the sunlight—a sphere the size of a small grape, with a luster that seems to absorb and reflect the entire sky.
"Gods above," Kreszo whispers, his blue eyes wide. "I've never... In three years of diving, I've never seen one so large."
Cho rolls the pearl between his fingers, assessing its weight and color. "Is it valuable?"
"Valuable?" Kreszo laughs, the sound bright against the gentle lapping of waves. "A merchant from Arcador would give you enough for passage on a trader's ship, fine clothes, and a month in luxury lodgings." He stares at the pearl, then at Cho. "You have the devil's own luck."
"Not luck," Cho corrects him, closing his fist around the pearl. "Destiny."
They swim toward shore, but Kreszo diverts them, leading Cho around a small headland to a crescent of sand hidden from the village by a tumble of boulders. Here, palm trees grow almost to the water's edge, creating a canopy of shade over white sand unmarked by footprints.
"No one comes here," Kreszo explains, wading onto the sand. Water streams from his lean body, his wet breeches clinging to the curve of his buttocks. "The villagers believe water spirits claim this cove at high tide."
"And do they?" Cho asks, following him onto the shore.
"No," Kreszo turns, his desire no longer hidden behind the pretense of instruction. "But we might make them jealous today."
Cho moves with unexpected speed for a man his size. One moment he stands apart from Kreszo, the next he has the young diver pulled against his chest, one massive hand cupping the back of Kreszo's head. Their mouths meet, and Cho tastes salt water and sunlight on the boy's lips.
Unlike the previous night's performance, Cho makes no pretense of gentleness now. His kiss is consuming, demanding, his tongue claiming Kreszo's mouth with the same certainty with which he claimed the pearl. When he pulls back, Kreszo's eyes have darkened, his breathing rapid and shallow.
"On your knees," Cho commands, his voice low but carrying the weight of absolute authority.
Kreszo complies without hesitation, sinking to the sand. His hands move to Cho's waist, but Cho catches his wrists.
"Not yet," he says. "First, I want to hear you say what you want."
A flush spreads across Kreszo's golden skin. "I want... you. Inside me."
"Look at me when you say it," Cho demands, tilting the boy's chin upward. "And say my name."
"I want you inside me, Cho," Kreszo repeats, his voice stronger, eyes locked on Cho's. "I've wanted it since I saw you standing on the beach yesterday."
Cho's lips curve in satisfaction. He releases Kreszo's hands, allowing him to untie the wet cloth and free what strains beneath. Kreszo makes a sound of appreciation at the size of him, already fully erect and imposing as the rest of his physique.
What follows is an education for Kreszo—in submission, in pleasure edged with command. Cho positions him on hands and knees in the soft sand, spitting again and again at the boy’s tight hole and working slick fingers deep inside him. Cho claims him with methodical thoroughness. The fingers of Cho’s left and then right hands jab into him, patient but insistent. Each thrust is calculated, first one finger then two, his thumbs pressing at the pink flesh, each pause timed to Kreszo's gasping breaths. Kreszo’s tight hole blinks in confusion and surprise. But as Cho continues his work it learns to welcome each fresh invasion, and begins to grip and suck on each finger, drawing it in to the knuckle.
Kreszo arches his back, the pale white skin of his butt curved high to the sun, his cheek against the sand as he squirms round to watch Cho. The giant is naked, his cock swinging huge and heavy in the ocean breeze, and Kreszo’s own cock rises at the sight. It is large by comparison with that of any other man, fleshy and pink, with a gentle curve upwards towards the sky. But Cho isn’t just any man, and Cho’s cock isn’t just any cock.
Cho holds Kreszo in the position for an age, until Kreszo understands he no longer holds him there at all. It is his own choice to present his hole in such a way. Blatant and greedy. And still Cho prepares for the onslaught ahead. Kreszo reaches round and grabs a handful of his muscular ass in each hand, spreading his hole for Cho’s admiration, pressing his own thumbs against the wrinkled crimson muscle lining of his hole. Cho spits and spits again at the target, patient and relentless, until words form on Kreszo’s tongue. Words that start as whimpers and become a coherent phrase.
Cho makes the boy beg, and Kreszo begs and begs and begs to be fucked.
The tide is incoming. As Cho finally enters him, a long and slow and steady slide that fucks the oxygen clean out of Kreszo’s body, water laps at Kreszo’s face as it lies on the sand. He tries to straighten his arms, to lift his mouth away from the water, but the slightest of slaps from behind and he is back in position, each gentle wave frothing at his nose and against his tightly pursed mouth. Cho is building up speed now, beginning to find a serious groove, and the friction of the giant cockhead against his asslips has Kreszo keening an endless moan even as he tries to keep his nostrils above water. Cho takes his hands, pulling them up high behind Kreszo’s back, in utter control, and for a second Kreszo believes the giant will drown him even as he is fucking him, and he fears there is nothing he could do to stop that no matter how he tried.
But Cho is fucking life into him, not death. Cho is fucking joy into him, confidence instead of doubt, and a path to the future. With every thrust Kreszo learns more and more about what his life could be. Life as a beloved toy of a stronger man. His cock swings wildly underneath him, each thrust causing his beautiful pink bone to swing from side to side, coating his thighs with glistening slime.
Cho is attentive to the rise of the water, and Kreszo feels a hand in his hair, and the strength in Cho’s arm as he pulls backwards. His nostrils remain an inch above the incoming tide and Cho holds him there as he fucks. Ass clamping tight each time Cho pulls out, Kreszo tries to keep the giant’s cock as deep inside as he can.
And then Cho lifts him. Lifts him as easily as if he was a feather. Lifts him into arms of iron, holds him tight on pecs of bronze. Cho’s cock never leaves the warm grasp of Kreszo’s asshole, but together they walk up the beach. Cho spins the smaller man even as his cock continues to fuck him wide open. Cho places him down, his back against a huge boulder, his legs lifted high and over Cho’s shoulders. Kreszo braces his arms against the rock, which is smooth and tide-worn against his skin. All the time Cho’s cock remains deep inside, and each strong movement of the giant’s hips fucks more and more inches of hard pale flesh deeper inside Kreszo than he ever could have dreamed.
Cho spits and spits again down onto Kreszo’s cock, till it is a slippery pink bar. Cho takes it first in one hand and then into both, and the spit mingles with the slippery juices that drip from the blonde’s juicy cockhead. Kreszo feels his balls tighten and loosen in waves, as he begins to churn a fountain of cum. He holds tight, clenching onto Cho’s cock as it continues to drive into him, faster and then slower, faster and then slower. Cho spits again, drenching pecs and nipples, lips and eyelashes. But his hands stay at the cock, slickening and slippery, a blur of speed and pressure.
And then he pulls out, and steps away. Kreszo falls, squirming round to land on his back. Cho steps over him, feet beneath Kreszo’s armpits. And he directs his cock downwards, down towards Kreszo’s chest, or is it lips? Kreszo feels and then tastes the spatters of Cho’s cum on his body, slickening the skin of his chest and neck, dripping in fat globs of salty sperm from his chin and nose. And he opens his mouth wide, his tongue keen for every drop. Cho drops to his knees, pinning him tightly between his thighs as he positions the sunlit cockend right on Kreszo’s tongue.
And instinctively Kreszo knows he must ask.
Before allowing him release, Cho teaches him phrases of supplication that echo against the boulders surrounding their private cove.
When they finish, Kreszo lies sprawled on the sand, his body bearing red marks from Cho's grip, his expression one of dazed revelation. Cho holds the boy beside him, their legs intertwined, their cocks gently and gradually softening as they press together. A fat long finger remains inside his ass – a marker of ownership, and indicator of an inevitable near-future. They will fuck again. And more. For Kreszo, this is a dreamstate. This is the world, the world at its pinnacle, all he could ever have imagined. They stand and wash together, Kreszo lapping water across both of their bodies, feeling the drying cum slide away into the waves. Cho turns him and fucks him again as they stand. And the sun beats down onto their bodies, and Cho fucks him until the waves are at the height of their waists, and Kreszo must beg once more to be allowed to cum. He shoots into the saltwater, streams and streams of shimmering cream dissipating into fractal patterns amongst the waves. And later, Cho fucks him again, harder than ever, spinning him round, holding him down, filling his mouth and then his ass with every inch he can take, teaching him how to please a giant cock with his hands and his mouth and his ass and his mind. And Kreszo comes to understand that he is a very eager student.
They lie together in the soft warm sand. Cho holds the pearl once again in his palm, studying its perfect surface as Kreszo studies his profile.
"You're really going to Arcador," Kreszo says finally, not a question but a confirmation.
"Tomorrow," Cho confirms, closing his fist around the pearl. "This is just the beginning."
"Take me with you," Kreszo says suddenly, pushing himself up on one elbow. "I can dive in the harbor there, or work the docks, or—"
"No." Cho's refusal is gentle but absolute. "You belong here, in your village. With your family."
Disappointment clouds Kreszo's face, followed by resignation. "You'll find better than me in Arcador anyway."
"I will find many," Cho agrees, his honesty brutal but somehow less cruel than false promises would be. "But you were the first to recognize what I am. The first to give yourself to me willingly in this way. I won't forget that."
He places the pearl in Kreszo's palm, closing the boy's fingers around it. Kreszo's confusion is evident in his furrowed brow.
"But it's yours—you found it," he protests.
"And now I give it to you," Cho says. "Keep it. Or sell it and follow me to Arcador if you must. Either way, it binds us."
He leans down and kisses Kreszo once more, this time with something like tenderness. It is the kiss of a conqueror who honors a worthy surrender, of a collector who appreciates a beautiful acquisition before moving on to the next.
Tomorrow, Cho will walk the road to Arcador, to greater conquests and higher stakes. But today, on this hidden beach with this golden boy, he has confirmed what he always suspected: his power over others extends beyond his physical strength. It lives in his ability to recognize desire and shape it to his purpose.
The pearl will be Kreszo's reminder of this day. For Cho, the memory itself is treasure enough—the first entry in what will become a long inventory of lives touched, changed, and sometimes broken in an ascent he already knows to be unstoppable.
I’ve loved sharing the beginning of Cho’s story with you and hope you’ll stick around for many further adventures in this long serial story.
Let me know what you think! There is a great castlist in this tale, just some of whom feature in the video here.
Appreciate all of your Comments and Likes as well as interaction in the Subscriber Chat - it all helps me know I am on the right path, and I would love to make this Substack somewhere you are always happy to spend some relaxed time.
With love
Zayq
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Well, I don't know how he'd going to pay for his lodgings in Arcador without that pearl, but I have the feeling Kreszo going to take the hint and follow him there.
You do write sex very well.
Aww... I thought Cho would take Kreszo with him to the city. I'm sure he won't be lonely when he gets there, however.