The Joys of Self-Pleasure

A/N: For an AssCreed kink meme prompt and my own dirty confession, lol

It started as an accident—a simple, innocent little incident—and the young Assassin didn’t know how to feel about it. It all started when he scraped his groin against the desk. He didn’t mean to do it. Oh no, not at all. He just needed to grab ingredients from the kitchen shelves as ordered by Achilles. But then euphoria ignited his loins while he did so.

He never brought it up with the old man, no matter how disconcerted it made him. Such matters embarrassed him too much to discuss in the open. He didn’t want to discuss it with someone not of his tribe, either. So, he left the subject untouched until nightfall.

Connor laid upon his four-poster bed with eyes wide open. He couldn’t sleep until he dealt with this strange issue of his. He felt relieved that Achilles gave him a separate upstairs bedroom to sleep in, far away from the old man’s lower-level chamber. Wearing nothing but a night-shirt, Connor pushed the bedsheets aside and reached for his nether regions. He put his hand right above his loins, unsure of where to begin, or even how to get those gratifying sparks going again. He wished he had someone to advise him—someone like Kanen'tó:kon, for instance. Connor had confidence that his best friend would help him out. This time, however, he only had himself. The young man sighed. He opted to just grip his phallus the way he did whenever he’d bathe himself. He frowned. He didn’t know what to do next. He kept his palm still. He thought back to where he last received those pleasurable sensations. He remembered them beginning from the tip of his—

“Ah, so that is what I should do!”

Connor beamed like a child. He brushed the tip of his member with his fingers. He shivered from the pain and pleasure. His smile twisted into a frown. While he loved the delightful touches, he hated the accompanying discomforts. He grumbled, sat up and crossed his arms before bowing his head.

Usually, it would not hurt whenever I would wash with soap.

He wrinkled his brows. So why—

“Oh, I think I understand now!”

Connor slid off his bed. He walked towards the chair near the fireplace, where his pantaloons hung over its rails. He could just strut downstairs without any pants on, but he opted to wear them just in case Achilles awoke and caught him bare-arsed. He put them on then made his way to the manor’s lower levels. Connor arrived at the kitchen and snatched a small jar from the shelves labeled, ‘BEAR GREASE’. He tucked it under his arm then left. Connor stopped by Achilles’s room and peered through the cracked door. The old man slept like a baby.

Connor smiled and closed the door without a sound before he went back upstairs. The eager young man closed his bedroom door shut and stripped as fast as possible. He didn’t even care if he scattered his clothes all over, something about this event excited him like no other. He grinned like a silly fool as he hopped into bed, opened the jar of bear grease, dipped his fingers into it, and smeared the grease all over his groin. He shuddered every time he touched his knob-end. He then closed the jar and set it aside. He reclined onto his pillows and stroked his hardening member. Connor sighed, content at the sensual warmth spreading through him.

So, this must be the reason why people find such intimate activities to be quite enjoyable.

Connor closed his eyes. He glided his hand up and down his shaft, touching his head every now and then. He released another calm breath. If he’d known that self-stimulation would feel this good, then he would’ve done it earlier. Were there other ways to make himself feel good? Connor opened his eyes. He looked at his length and slid his index finger across the underside of his shaft. He whimpered. He slid his finger over his frenulum. He jolted. He stared at his cock like a dumbfounded ape. He touched that sweet spot again and he yelped. His dumbfounded look turned into a sheepish smile. The sweet spot felt so intense yet so good, he decided to focus on it for the rest of the session. He traced small circles around it, the pleasant feelings amplifying as he lingered there. His cheeks burned, his breathing growing as fast as his movements. He moaned. His eyes then widened and covered his mouth. He stopped. He sat up fast, his mind in turmoil. The moaning, the panting, the edging…it all became too much for him. Connor pouted.

This must be the reason why people shrieked like animals whenever they rutted.

Prior to this, Connor knew little about sex. He only knew that sex happened when mother and father needed to procreate. Birth, puberty, and the coming of age had little to no importance in his culture compared to other tribes. Connor palmed his cheek. He grew embarrassed from the warmth and tingle of it all. He pursed his lips, unsure of what to do next. He suffered from all the unwanted physiology that accompanied his sexual pleasure. However, at the same time, he found it quite thrilling to chase the edge of lust.

How would it be like beyond this?

Connor resumed his exploration. He inhaled as he laid back down again. He placed both hands on his crotch, one on his balls and the other on his shaft. He brushed his index finger across that sensitive, elastic band of tissue. He moaned with abandon when he quickened his strokes. He heaved as the pleasurable feelings intensified. His cheeks burned even hotter as he neared the edge a second time.

Is there a way to take these sensations to the next level?

Connor fondled his frenulum. His hips bucked and whimpered. He cupped his balls as he kept teasing his delicate, thin fold of skin. Connor grew close, so close to reaching the other side of bliss. He cried. The feelings were too much and too little at the same time. He rolled more of his frenulum between his thumb and forefinger. Stars exploded behind Connor’s eyes. He howled like mad and shook as his seed spurted all over his taut abs. He expelled his remaining load with a vigorous pumping of his shaft and groaned. He continued rubbing himself until he couldn’t take it anymore before he screamed. He surrendered to the aftershocks. Several minutes of silence passed and Connor returned from his high all stunned like a vegetable. He sighed.

Tsi niionehrákwa…1

He smiled. He looked at his juice-coated stomach before frowning.

Great. Now I must clean myself.

He huffed. Connor sat in a cross-legged position and scanned his room for any spare cloth to wipe himself with. He found none. He didn’t want to go take a midnight bath in the lake, it proved too much of a hassle for him. He grumbled as he stared at his stained abs and shrugged. He resolved to just rub the fluids all over his torso. Then he got curious.

How does it taste like…?

He swiped a globule onto his fingertip and licked it. He scrunched his face.


Connor opted not to lick anymore of his saltiness, and soon, the fluids on his trunk started to dry. He frowned for he didn’t like the stickiness. He grabbed the pot of bear grease, opened it, scooped the grease, and slathered it all over his trunk.

“This should keep things smooth for a while.”

Connor’s eyes got heavy as he sealed the pot and he set it on the floor. He then yawned and laid back down and pulled the sheets over his head. He turned sideways and grabbed an extra pillow. He hugged it tight before burying his face into its softness. He smiled, content with his sexual awakening.


And closed his eyes. He very much looked forward to discovering more tomorrow.

Someone knocked on the junior Assassin’s door.


He knocked several times.

“Connor!? Wake up! I need to have a word with you, young man!”

Connor’s eyes fluttered open and groaned, moist spots stained his pillow thanks to his drooling. Connor wiped the remaining dribble off his face before rubbing his eyes.


The man banged the door.

“If you don’t come out this instant, I’ll—”

“I will be there in a moment, Achilles.”

Connor stretched himself.

“I just need to get dressed first.”

He got up. He heard an audible sigh from the old man while he dressed.

“Oh, why are you sleeping so late!? You usually rise earlier than I do!”

Connor put on his linen shift.

“Uh, I could not sleep last night.”

He grimaced at the mixture of juices and bear grease that stained his torso.

I will wash this off later.

Connor finished putting on the rest of his clothes and opened the door.

“What is it that you wish to speak about?”

“At last!”

Achilles exhaled in relief. He wrinkled his eyebrows.

“I’ve been standing here for some time now, just waiting for you!”

Ah, my apologies.”

He bowed his head.

Achilles waved Connor’s apology.

“Have you seen the jar of bear grease? I need it to cook lunch. I can’t seem to remember where I last placed it.”

Connor’s cheeks turned bright red.


He refused to make eyes with the old man.

“I used it last night.”

“All of it?”

Achilles raised his brows.

“I—no! Not all of it!”

“Then where is it!?”

Connor scratched the back of his head.

“…In my room.”

“In your room!?”

Achilles glowered.

“What’s it doing there? Give it to me!”

“Uh…I do not think you would want it back.”

“What do you mean, I wouldn’t want it back? Of, course I would! I need it! What are you doing with it, anyway!?”

Connor stared at the hardwood floor.


His cheeks grew hot.

“I used it on my body.”

He scratched the back of his head again.

Achilles gawked.

“I don’t even want to know where.”

He shook his head.

“First week of adulthood, and already it commences like this. I should’ve known!”

Connor said nothing. Achilles sighed.

“Well, boys will be boys.”

He walked to the edge of the staircase.

“I will need a new pot of bear grease. One that is clean, mind you.”

He started going downstairs.

“O-of course, sir…”

Connor still refused to look at the old man. Achilles stopped in his tracks.

“What are you doing just standing there? That bear grease won’t just appear on its own, you know. Now go out there and fetch me some, boy!”

Connor shot his head up.

“Y-yes, sir!”

Achilles muttered as he made his way down the steps and disappeared from Connor’s line of sight. Connor exhaled in relief and hung his shoulders. He didn’t want to go through that ever again. He felt glad that Achilles let him keep the pot of bear grease. He retreated from the doorway and strolled towards the armchair tucked in a corner, where his hunting items rested. He picked them up and then strode towards his messy bed.

As he made his bed, he mulled over all the places he should hunt for bears. He also had to take care of washing his torso.

I could go hunting in John’s Town. That place always has enough bears frolicking around. It also has a nice big place for me to go bathing in…

Connor grinned like a fool. He straightened the remaining creases on his bedsheets then exited. He couldn’t wait to get some rest and relaxation in the lake after a day of hunting.


1 Roughly translates to ‘It is amazing’. [return to top ⇧]
2 Translates to ‘salt’. [return to top ⇧]
3 Translates to ‘I am happy’. [return to top ⇧]

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