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This little bit of late night silliness sprang from the observation on the number of times it has been mentioned in fanfic that Nick is not circumcised.  It got me to wondering how things might be different if indeed M. de Brabant had gone under the knife.

This story is to be taken lightly salted. No offense to any character, faction, religious or professional affiliation is intended. Proceed at your own risk.

Nick and Co. belong to JP and Co..  I am only borrowing them for a short time. No copyright infringement is intended.

Permission is given to archive to jadfe.

The Tip of the Iceberg or
A Snip of Fate
by Kathy Whelton
(c) 1998

mild m/f and m/m content

Natalie glanced once again into the bathroom mirror. It seemed almost impossible to believe that after all this time, Nick had finally come to his senses and agreed to at least try to make love to her. How typical that he would come to this momentous decision on the night she had worn her oldest pair of sweats over to the loft for videos.

She slid her hand across the smooth black silk. Maybe the timing wasn't so bad after all. There were worse things she could face him in besides his pajama top.

Natalie cracked the door and peered out into the darkened interior of the loft's only bedroom.  No forms of artificial light were evident. Only the soft glow of candles, too numerous for Natalie to count, lit the way.

"This is beautiful, Nick," Natalie commented as she stepped out into the room. Nick was seated on the bed, clad only in his red and black silk bathrobe. Natalie sensed a certain degree of nervousness in him as well as he sprang quickly to his feet.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you are," Nick said softly. The glow from the candles caught the auburn highlights in her hair.  Nick stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"Nat, are you sure?" He whispered the question into her ear. He was willing to accept whatever consequences followed, as long as she was absolutely certain of what she wanted.

"I'm sure, Nick, I'm sure." A trace of annoyance had crept into her voice. How many ways could she tell him she was ready?  Perhaps she had discarded the plan to dance naked through his living room just a little too quickly. She pulled him tightly to her, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. She trailed it slowly over the sensitive canines and heard him moan with pleasure.

Nick felt his body respond and he melted into her.  He quickly undid the buttons to the top she was wearing, and slid his cool hands over her warm breasts.  He could smell her musky scent as her desire filled the air. Nick slid his fingers over her sensitive nubs, causing them to become erect.

Natalie carefully guided her hand downward and pulled open the tie to his robe. Nick had always kept himself carefully covered during all of her medical examinations--she longed to see his body in all its glory. She gently grasped his manhood and was pleased to feel it harden in response. Natalie began moving her hand up and down the lengthy shaft in increasingly firmer motions. She eased her hand down its length and began to tease the...um...foreskin from the...um... tip. Her movements suddenly took on a sense of clinical urgency--her fingers probing harshly for the answer.

"Nat!" Nick gasped, not quite in pleasure. "Easy there."

Natalie dropped her hand suddenly and stepped over to snap on the bedside light.  Candlelight might be fine for *him*, but she couldn't see a damn thing.  "What is *that*?"  she questioned harshly, her finger pointing to his nether regions.

A look of confusion swept over Nick's face. "What's what, Nat?" He looked about madly, klewless as to what she was referring.

"THAT!"

This time there could be no question as to what Natalie was pointing at. Nick pulled his red and black silk robe tightly around him, grateful for it's familiar comfort.  "Well, Nat, it's my...you know," he stammered, "my penis."

"You're circumcised!" she exclaimed loudly.

Nick was suddenly and profoundly grateful for his lack of neighbors. "Yeah," he acknowledged slowly. "Is that a problem?"

"You're darn tooting it's a problem. Every book I took out of the library on this assured me that you would *not* be circumcised. What's the deal here?"

"You researched this?!" Nick asked incredulously. "You looked this up in a book?"

"Of course I did. What do you think I was doing all this time, looking for a cure?" she laughed derisively. "You can just forget about that, by the way, it's hopeless."

Nick stood staring at her in stunned silence. "Nat, you can't mean it," he finally managed.

The pitiful look on his face managed to stir some warm feeling within her. She stepped back to him and slid her arm around his shoulder. "Do you want to tell me about it?" she asked him gently.

Nick shot her a puzzled look. "I've told you all about this, Nat.  Janette seduced me, LaCroix brought me across, I stepped away from the light..."

"Not *that*," Natalie said harshly. She pointed to his groin once again. "*that*"

Nick spun abruptly, turning away from her stare. "That is something I've never told you about. Something too painful for even me to discuss."

"Yeah, so..." Nat prodded him onward.

"It goes back to the very night of my birth," Nick began slowly.  "There was a terrible storm that night. A couple arrived seeking shelter, the woman heavy with child. There was a fair in town and there was no room at the Inn. My father wanted to put them up in the stables--they were Jewish, after all, but my mother wouldn't hear of it. There was plenty of room in the cellar since the last of the captives died. The woman gave birth that very same night--she had a boy as well. The joyous event brought the two women together in a way that would not have been generally acceptable, given our noble blood and all." Nick's nose drifted ever so slightly skyward as he related the words.

"Eight days went by. As fate would have it, a traveling mohel* was passing through the area. The whole castle made preparations for the bris* of our newborn guest.  When the time came, the nurse brought the visitors' baby into the great hall." Nick's voice choked on the words. "It wasn't discovered until it was too late that she had brought the wrong baby."
(author's note: when all else fails, blame 'the nurse'.)

"Oh, Nick. How awful," Natalie responded. How really, really awful.

"It was terrible, Nat. I was teased my entire life. The other pages made my life a living hell, the peasant girls laughed at me." Nick dug his teeth into his knuckles. "Even the other prisoners in that dungeon in the Holy Land. There we were, naked, chained to one another like animals. You'd think they'd have something better to do than laugh at me, but nooooo." Nick continued with more than a trace of bitterness in his voice. "I think it was that more than anything else that led me into Janette's arms that fateful night."

"Janette didn't mind?" Natalie queried.

Nick scrambled quickly for an answer. "Naw. Janette really hates sex--that prostitution thing and all. She keeps her eyes closed the whole time."

"Oh," Nat responded. She slid her arm back around him. This was a real disappointment to be sure. She had counted so strongly on him being uncut, not like those boys she had in college. She had sunk four years into this, though, and he was kinda cute. There was also that four hundred and seventy-eight  million to be considered. They were doing some amazing things with phalloplasty these days. She pressed herself against him once more, allowing her lips to skim the sensitive  nape of his neck.

Nick pulled back and looked into her eyes. "Are you sure, Nat?"  He saw the uncertainty there. It was a look he had seen before...

  ---{---{---<@  That's right it's...UF flashback time.

LaCroix felt his heart pound as he ran his long, cool fingers over Nicholas' back. His son was on his knees, buttocks lifted to the sky, ready for his Master's entrance. It had taken long months of patient waiting for him to come to this moment, to convince his stubborn son that there was nothing degrading in this act, that he would be as much a man after as he had been before. Nicholas had finally acquiesced when LaCroix assured him that he, in turn, would be the recipient of Nicholas'
...um...attentions. Yeah, right. It would be one cold day in hell before that happened, but what the boy didn't know wouldn't hurt him--well, not much anyway.

He moistened his fingers and slid one, then another into Nicholas' tightened orifice and heard Nicholas moan in response.  He felt his son's sensitive gland and gently began to massage it.  Nicholas eased into the pressure and began rocking violently in response. LaCroix reached around to his child's hardening manhood and grasped it tightly. There was no reason the boy shouldn't get *some* pleasure, after all. He may want to part these waters again; there was no sense burning all his bridges. LaCroix gently stroked the lengthy shaft, timing it carefully with the diligent probing of his fingers in Nicholas' ass. He gently teased the...um...foreskin back from the...um ...tip. LaCroix's fingers took on a sudden sense of urgency.

"JANETTE!" LaCroix's bellow could be heard not only through the hallways but through their link as well. She had discretely retired to her room earlier in the evening. She knew that Nicholas *loved* to be watched while pitching. She had an idea he would not be quite so happy about an audience while he was catching.

Janette flew to the boudoir, unable or unwilling to refuse her master's call. Nicholas was sitting <carefully> on the floor, a confused look on his face. LaCroix stood above him, stark naked and in a boiling rage.

"He's circumcised!" LaCroix shouted.  "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Vraiment!" she uttered. "Is this a problem?"

"I'll say it's a problem," LaCroix snapped. "If I want them 'cut' I'll cut them myself." He pressed his face towards her. "I don't want *this* one, I want *another* one!" He stormed towards the door, barely sparing a glance for his son. He had already lost a good part of the night. The stable boy--that was it! He was a peasant, but some nights you couldn't be too picky...

   ----{----{---<@

"Nat, Nat, I asked if you were sure."

Natalie felt her shoulders slump. It was no good, she couldn't get the visions of uncircumcised penises out of her head. "It won't work like this, Nick. We can't have the relationship that we want, not like this." She rose from the bed, vaguely wondering about the frequency of circumcision in 16th century Spain. She spared a glance over her shoulder at Nick. "Let's do lunch sometime, okay?"

Nick's sensitive hearing soon heard the elevator spring to life.

"Is she gone?" a voice called softly from the closet beyond.

"I think so--finally," Nick responded, holding his hands out to the figure hidden within. "Come to me, mon amour."

"And you doubted me." Janette slid into his arms, her eyes already golden.

"We took a big chance, what if it didn't work?" Nick queried, his fangs scraping the soft skin of her neck.

"It worked with LaCroix, did it not, cherie?"

"Barely." Nick ran a hand over his rear end.  When he thought of how close LaCroix had come...he shuddered to think of it.  "Besides, it hurts like hell." Nick reached down and tried to gently peel his foreskin back down over his glans. "Look, it's all swollen," he whined.

"Now, now. You just let Janette take care of that..."

   ~finis~

  *mohel--A person, frequently a rabbi, who performs ritual circumcision.

   *bris--The ceremony of ritual circumcision.

Comments welcome. All flames will be forwarded to your mother, because you shouldn't be reading this stuff anyway. <G>

 Kathy
103045.2473@compuserve.com
^@