"Oh, my head hurts. Where am I? What a headache." Miles sniffed, "Can't smell anything but mold. Is there anyone here?" He listened and felt around for his cane. Miles listened for an echo, "Hello!" he yelled. It was a large room. He felt around himself for other furniture. A desk. He felt for anything on top.
"My cane! At least they aren't complete barbarians," he whispered out loud as he unfolded it and began tapping his way around the room. The wooden floor creaked the way old wooden floors do when they have become comfortable paths. The walls were hard and uneven like very old lath and plaster. Miles tapped his way around the room, feeling his way along. He came to a place that the tap was missing. He froze. Miles could feel a wind draft that felt upward. He knelt on his hands and knees and felt forward on the floor. There was an edge. It was splintered and taking his cane, he could not tap or touch anything, anywhere forward of him. There were no railings, it was not manufactured, it was just missing.
Miles panicked and sat back against the wall.
"Oh dear God, where am I that a mistaken step could be the end?" Then he heard a voice. A voice that was almost more of a whine than a melodic sound, it was nasal. He heard a misshapen laugh. It had an evil sound to it, like a man who was insane by civilized standards but admired and feared in barbaric societies. He was not alone.
"As you can see, you would do well to stay where I put you. This place is even dangerous for someone who can see!"
"What do you want from me? Take me back?"
"You're my guest. You should smile when hospitality is given to you."
"Thank you, but if you don't mind, I would just as soon skip the hospitality and go home, please."
"I think not. Little blind dog. I think you shall stay for a little while. Like the other boy."
"What other boy? Do you have Jamie?"
"Yes, Jamie. That is the one. Yes, we have him. Do what we say and he won't get hurt."
"Okay, okay. Don't hurt him. I'll do what you want. Please, can I see him?"
"No, it is not convenient for me. Perhaps later. Who is he to you, anyway? Why should you care if we kill him or not?"
"Please don't, oh please. If you want money I can get you money, just don't hurt him."
"Answer the question. Who is he to you?"
"He is my life, my love; my Jamie."
"Allah spits at the unnatural affairs of boys who like boys. They should have killed you when they found you defective. Now they allow this pig to do things to you. I will be merciful and perhaps kill you together. Then you can see each other in oblivion."
Miles scooted back towards the bed where he came from, whimpering. "No, please don't hurt me."
"Sirhan!" The man shouted. "Sirhan, come and sit with this trash until our business is done. Then, if you are good, I will let you cut his throat. If he misbehaves then push him in a hole. It'll look like an accident. Tell him nothing of his friend. They are unnatural. I have to go wash before I pray. He is filth."
Miles heard footsteps coming closer. They were not the steps of a full grown man. They were the steps of a person with a smaller frame, perhaps a boy near his age, but not a man. Miles trembled.
"Get up!" the voice said.
Miles unsteadily got to his feet as the hand of the boy pulled him towards the bed. "Sit here and don't move or I will have to kill you."
The voice was young. "Who are you?" Miles asked.
"I am Sirhan. Don't try anything or I will be forced to kill you."
"I won't try anything. I'm blind. I couldn't go anyplace if I wanted to.
"Why didn't your parents kill you when you were born and save you from this life of misery?"
"I wasn't blind when I was born."
"Then what?" he shot at him. "How did it happen?"
"I saw something terrible and it made me blind," Miles mumbled.
"Then you are blind because you are weak? What did you do to piss Allah off like this that you should be born weak and unnatural?"
"What I saw hurt my heart so badly that my eyes refused to see for chance it might see such horror again. I survived it. I am not weak. As for the unnatural part, the feelings I have for Jamie are natural."
"Allah says sex is for making children, more followers to worship him. Sex for any other reason puts the body before Allah."
"Not every relationship in life has to be about making babies. Sometimes it's about being held and feeling your warmth against another, smelling the scent of another."
"Yeah well, I smelled the scent of Rafa and it was not pleasant. He needed a bath."
"Yes well, Rafa doesn't have a monopoly on that."
"What are you saying pig?"
"Oh relax. You could use a bath and so could I."
"Are you suggesting. . ."
"I'm suggesting that I need a bath and probably don't smell particularly good at the moment. It is hot and dirty here. There is no air movement. Is there a window you could open?"
"What, so you can yell for help?"
"And what, give you reason to kill me?"
"Yes and I would do it most unpleasantly. There are no windows."
"Well how about a bathroom. I need to go."
"There is a bathroom. Come this way. If you try anything . . ."
Miles cut him off, "Yeah I know, I know. You will have to kill me."
"I am glad you are not stupid as well."
"Here is the bathroom, now go."
"Do you plan to watch me? It is hard to go when someone is watching."
"You are blind, how would you know if you are being watched."
"How could you know?
"I just do."
"You are guessing, but I will turn my back."
Miles began to relieve himself.
"How do you know where to aim?"
"No, I'm listening. How do you know where to point to hit the water? Why aren't you pissing all over the place?"
"Because, I am not an uncouth heathen. I know where it is coming from and where I am sending it to. Like anything else, you learn by practice."
"How can you practice? There is barely enough to hold onto!"
"You were looking!"
"No I was not looking."
"You were too looking. Or you would not know my size."
"Of course I would. All Americans and British have small equipment. It is a known fact. It is because they are less of a man than any Arab."
"It is true. It is written in all the books. It is nothing to be ashamed of. You cannot help being born with small equipment. Besides that, you are not chosen or you would have been born a sighted, woman-loving, Arab instead of a pathetic blind dog who is unnatural."
"How old are you? You sound like you are eight."
"I am thirteen. Now, shut up or I'll have to kill you."
"Have you ever killed anyone?"
"Well, no. Not yet. But Shileesh promises you can be my first."
"You look forward to killing?"
"Of course! To kill for Allah, there is no greater honor."
"And what about you? Is it good for you? Can you imagine killing someone you have shared life with and then, by your hand, cut it from life? I would feel sad and I would see that person's face every time I closed my eyes."
"Yes, but you are weak."
"Yes, I know. Weak with small equipment. But even you and I, who are not friends, not really enemies. We have talked. You could kill me?"
"Easily, you are a dog before Allah."
"Yeah well, you have a lot of years before you have to face Allah. That is a long time to see the face of one you have cut out of life."
"You talk too much. What do you know of such things?"
"I know. I've seen death. It was so horrible that my eyes refuse to see."
"Only because you are weak."
"Oh? I don't see myself as weak. Weak would have given up. I went on. I had the courage to go on. I hope you have the courage to go on. Killing may be an easy thing to do, but will it be easy to live with afterwards? There is no fixing it once done. You can't un-kill someone with an, "I'm sorry." I hope you are strong enough. It would be a shame to have innocent blood on your hands when you face Allah."
"You are not innocent. You are corrupt in your ways."
"I am not corrupt in my ways. They are just different ways."
"There is only one way, the Koran."
"Wait, you live your life by a book?"
"It is not just any book. It is the Koran."
"Well how does it write about the indescribable things in life?"
"What is this indescribable things you speak of?"
"You know, things like love."
"Love is not important. Service is important."
"Love is not important? You could only say this if you have never been in love."
"I have been in love!"
"Yeah? With who?"
"None of your business with who. I was. That's all you need to know."
"Was it a boy or a girl?"
"How can you ask such things? I am not unnatural like you."
"It was a boy, wasn't it," Miles said, quietly.
"No," the boy whispered. "Well, he was, but then we had to eat him or the soldiers would take him."
Miles gasped. "You had to eat him? Your people are cannibals?"
"Of course not! Don't be stupid. He was our goat."
"You were in love with a goat and you call me unnatural?"
"Yes, what you do with other boys is not right. I did not say I was "in" love with our goat. But he was my friend and kept me warm many cold nights up on the hillside. He was a good goat. He tasted good too."
"What part of him did you eat?"
"Why do you ask this? I do not know. It was little square pieces with rice and curry. To know where it came from is madness."
"Then perhaps you ate his penis."
"No! We do not eat such things."
"Hey, it was little squares. How do you know?"
"His penis was not square!"
"Ah! Then you looked at his penis?"
"No I did no such thing."
"Then how do you know his penis is round?"
"I just know. And it was bigger than yours too, I might mention."
"You were looking."
"No I wasn't looking but I did see it. Briefly."
"Yes, that's what I said. Briefly. I mean, I wasn't looking and then the next thing I know you had it out in your hand and so I saw, but only briefly."
"And the goat?"
"What? You are going on again about the goat."
"Yes, well, did you see his briefly too, or did you touch it, too?"
"What? You are a mad man. Why would I touch a goat's penis? That is a disgusting thing to ask."
"Perhaps, only briefly?"
"No, not even briefly."
"But you did look at it."
"I have seen it, yes. All goat herders have. It is natural."
"And it made you hard when you saw it hard?"
"No, why would you ask such a thing?"
"And I suppose yours never get's hard."
"Only when it is natural for it to do so."
"And when is that?"
"Well, in the morning. Sometimes, when you have had too much to drink before bed."
"What about when you go to bed?"
"What about it. I go pee before I go to bed. There is no need."
"Even when you think about your goat?"
He sat still and Miles heard him squirm and his nostrils flared. He had just adjusted himself. He was sure he caught a scent of boy.
Miles whispered, "You are hard now. I can smell you." Miles grabbed his wrist over his shirt sleeve and brought his fingers close to his face. His scent was strong. Miles breathed in deeply and smiled, it was boy scent.
The boy pulled away. "You must not speak of these things. I do not want to die like you."
"I don't want to die either," Miles whispered. "Maybe we can help each other."
"Shut up! You must not even whisper such things." There was a mixture of anger and panic in his voice. Miles knew he just stepped over the line as he felt the boy get up and walk over to where the voice was coming from before.
"Uncle!" The boy shouted.
"What do you want? Your uncle has gone out."
"I want some food and water and also for the prisoner."
"I will bring water but we have no food until dinner."
The voice was getting closer as it spoke. "Here, take the water. Take all four bottles. Don't bother me again."
Miles heard the boy return to his side. "You are very lucky. If my uncle heard you, we would both be dead. You for saying it and me for not killing you before you finished getting the words out."
"Thank you for waiting. I'm sorry. I won't mention it again."
"Good, your life will be longer."
"A worthy cause for my silence," Miles said, picking up one of the bottles and unscrewing the top and taking a big swig from the bottle. "Thank you for the water. It is very good."
They were quiet for what seemed like a long time. Then Miles spoke.
"Sirhan," he said quietly.
"What do you want?"
"Let me touch your hand."
"Why? What are you going to do?"
"Nothing, I just want to touch your hand. Sometimes when I do I can see a person's future."
"You are a soothsayer? Such things are not of Allah."
"Maybe not, but aren't you the least bit curious about your future?"
"No, I know my future. It is to fight and die a martyr for Allah. Then I will go to paradise and have 70 virgins to serve me."
Miles sat quietly. A short time passed.
"Alright, but only because I am bored. And you may only touch me a little."
Miles reached out and let his fingers slowly slide over the back of Sirhan's hand and he gripped his hand as a swirl of pictures and events paced through his mind.
"Charlie! Oh thank God. Charlie, they have Miles." Chet said frantically into the phone. "They took him right out of the car."
"Where are you now?"
"We're right outside the warehouse."
"I want you to get in the car and go back to the manor."
"We can't. I've called the Yard and they're on the way."
"I'll take care of that. Now, get in your car and go. Now!"
Chet got in the car and Jamie asked, "What are you doing? We can't leave."
"Get in. Charlie says we have to leave here now. So get in."
"I'm not leaving here without Miles!"
"Jamie, I trust Charlie with my life."
"Yeah well, not everything is in Charlie's control. You leave. I'm going to find Miles." Jamie took off the opposite direction the car was facing. Chet swung the car around but Jamie was gone.
"Damn bloody hell!" Chet screamed as he smacked the steering wheel.
"Mac, they've got Miles. I've got to have them."
"Damn! Why didn't they listen! Holy Jesus, Joseph and Mary! Well, the salt is in the soup now, isn't it! Bloody hell! Charlie, you know we can't just let them have these."
"Yeah, I do. But we have no choice for the moment. Put a tracker in the second box. We give them the goods, they give us the kid and we blow it up with one of the American's smart missiles as soon as it crosses the border."
"Shit, that's risky. I'll have to make a call."
"Do it and get back to me. Minutes count."
Charlie hung up as another call came in.
"Charlie, have my toys yet?"
"Funny you should ask. I am making final arrangements now."
"Good, so glad to hear it. I guess you know by now that you have further incentive."
"What are you talking about?"
"I have the one named Miles."
"I don't know any Miles."
"Oh, I think you do. I used your cell phone last week, remember? He's even on your speed dial."
"Ok, so I know him. What about it?"
"I know that Allah would not approve of Jamie and Miles. It's unnatural."
"If you hurt him, you will never see the toys, and you will see me behind every rock."
"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we? Meet me. I want to put our relationship in perspective."
"I can be at the warehouse in ten minutes."
"No, these things need to be said between two warriors. No one else. Meet me on the train platform just down from the warehouse. Be there in ten minutes."
Think! You gotta think! Alright, they have to be in this warehouse. That's where the delivery guy went and the car was sitting with the doors open right next to it. So, Miles and maybe Charlie are inside. I'm the wildcard. Nobody knows about me. So, how do I get in?
The day moved into afternoon as Jamie walked through a parking lot against the back of the warehouse. Jamie could see a lot of old and well-rusted equipment inside the fence line. The weeds had overtaken much of it. They stood like ancient monuments to old construction equipment. Jami continued to follow the fence until he found a low spot where the rain runoff had washed the mud away. He lay down and slid underneath it, catching his shirt on one of the wires. He pulled it loose from the fence's grasp and slid back, pulling his legs all the way through to avoid the sharp points of the rusted chain link fence. He got to his feet and made his way through the brush to the back of the building.
He edged his way to the opening of the quadrangle. The building was like the walls of a box with a courtyard in the center. There were passages in the corners that allowed people to enter from the street or to get out in the event of a fire. These were long ago fenced over to keep homeless and others who would be drawn to such an empty place out. Besides the arch in the front with the black iron gates, there was another less ornamental gate in the rear. Jamie supposed that this was how they got all the old equipment into its grassy grave. He peeked around the corner and saw three, nice, new, cars. One man walked by the gate looking out at the traffic passing by. He was not concerned with anything happening from inside the gate. Jamie stepped around the corner into the stairwell.
Cautiously, he craned his neck to try and peek to see what, if anything, was ahead of him on the landings. He went up several flights, looking in the windows of the different floors. He was on the third and he looked through the window to see that there was sky above, inside the building. The roof had collapsed many years ago. He backtracked to the floor below and tried the door. It opened, but weather kept it from moving freely. He could only open it about a foot. It dug into the dirt on the floor and became wedged. Jamie sucked in his tummy and carefully and quietly slid in. He made his way toward the front of the building. He knew that they were probably on this floor because of the conditions of the floors above him and because the delivery guy said he had to go up several flights of steps. Jamie wondered what the guy thought when he got back and found him gone.
Jamie stepped up to a door. It was the old, metal-type with the push bar to open it. He put his ear to it and listened. He heard nothing, so he gently pushed the bar in and the metal to metal sound of the locking mechanism engaged. Jamie winced as it clunked and then opened. He opened the door ever so slowly, not knowing at all what was on the other side. There was no handle on the outside and as he tried to let it close quietly, it slipped from his fingers and banged shut. Jamie gasped and looked around. He was sure it was heard. He ran across the landing and slipped inside another door. It opened into what looked almost like a classroom. He glanced out of the dirty window to see a guy with a gun going for the stairwell he had just come from. He looked around for a place to hide. He reached up and locked the door and sped over against the wall in a recessed alcove and he pressed himself against the wall on the bottom shelf of a book case. There were piles of large pieces of paper with bluish lines and numbers on them. They were blueprints and some were hanging much the way they must have when the building was a thriving business. Sticks holding the many pages and then the rods they were attached to hung in well weathered slots. He could hear the guy coming up the steps. Jamie held his breath as he heard the guy try the door. Finding it locked, the guy kicked at the door. It held. He kicked again, harder, and the wall shook. He thought his heart was going to explode the way it pounded in his chest. Jamie prayed, "Oh dear God, please don't let him get me." He prayed silently and as the thug landed one more mighty kick to the door, the wall shook and as the door opened, the cascade of blueprints fell to the floor in a pile.
Jamie lay there not knowing if the fallen blueprints covered him completely or not. He tried to not breathe and when he had to, he took shallow breaths. He heard footsteps approach where he lay buried under the mountain of blueprints. The dust on them made Jamie's nose tickle. He tried to hold the sneeze by squeezing his nose.
He heard the footsteps walk away across the room and through the door on the other side of the room. But would he have to come back this way to get out? Is he gone? Is he still in the next room? Questions flew through Jamie's mind. He lay there praying silently to himself.
"Wil, why don't you and Sebastian go up and get your baths out of the way. We'll make some popcorn and curl up and watch a movie before you guys turn in," Annie smiled
"Ok, but have you heard anything from them yet?"
"No, not since they got there. But they are probably busy, you know. I'm sure they'll call tomorrow. Now, off you go and I'll start the popcorn."
Sebastian took Wil's hand and pulled him towards the bathroom. Wil just looked down, deep in thought as Sebastian pulled off his shirt and stepped on the toe of one sock with his heel and pulled his foot out. Repeating the process, he looked at Wil who wasn't moving, "Come on, it'll be fun. I'm hard just thinking about it."
Sebastian lifted up Wil's shirt, pulling it over his head. "Come on!" he said, pulling down his pants and underwear in one movement and using his feet to complete the maneuver, he took his toe and caught the leg of his shorts and underwear and flipped them up and into the laundry basket. "Two points!" he yelled. But Wil was standing there staring at the phone in his hand.
"I could call him. All I have to do is push the button," Wil said in a whisper, bringing it up in front of him.
"Yeah, but remember? It's so far away that it's dark there when it's light here. They are probably asleep there right now. You'll wake them up."
"It will just go to voice mail. I just have a bad feeling all of a sudden."
"You're just a worry wart. Come on. If you still feel bad after we have a shower, you can call him then. It'll be dark here in just a little bit and then it will be light there," Sebastian said. Kneeling down and grabbing the legs of Wil's shorts, he snatched them to the ground. He leaned in and with his lips over his teeth, playfully bit on Wil's small piece through his Batman under roos. He could feel it thicken under the pressure of his bite.
"I don't think it works just like that," Wil said. "But maybe waiting isn't such a bad idea," he said, grinning and looking down at the boy who was looking up at him, with a rapidly hardening rod showing through the material of his under roos. Sebastian moved his mouth left and then right in a rapid, short movement and Wil bent over quickly. Pulling his piece out of Sebastian's mouth, he squealed and pulled Sebastian to his feet.
"You start the water and I'll get my shoes off."
Sebastian smiled as his thin frame stretched to step into the tub shower. His rigid little pipe, rock-hard, standing out in front of him. Wil looked at his smooth, hairless, plate and knew how firm that little mound felt when it smacked in a rabbit fuck, fitting perfectly between his smooth round orbs. He throbbed in anticipation. The call would have to wait for a bit.
Wil stepped into the tub, looking at the firm little ass sticking out in front of him as Sebastian bent over to feel the water temperature. Sebastian felt two hands on his hips and something hot sliding in the trough between his buns.
"Hey, find a little soap will ya?" Sebastian giggled as Wil dropped to his knees and planted his tongue in the rosy pink flower before him. Sebastian squealed as he let loose with a squeaker fart and Wil slapped a rapid beat on his buns. Laughing, Sebastian pulled up on the switch that routes the water to the shower head and Will got the blast of cold that always precedes the warm. Another squeal, this time by Wil, as Sebastian took advantage of the distraction and dropped down to his knees sucking Wil to the bottom of his raging, hard rod and grabbing the soap quickly, he squeezed the wet bar, shooting it into the back of the tub. He reached between Wil's squirming legs and forced his soapy finger through his tight ring all the way to his last knuckle. When Sebastian sucked his rod to the root, Wil bent over as before, but now with this finger wiggling against his magic spot he was forcing his ass forward into the eager mouth of his sweet Sebastian. And sweet Sebastian was ready for it.
Wil grabbed Sebastian's head with both hands. Wil had his head bent forward, trying to stem the flow of water directly into his face, but he still had his bare pelvic mound thrust forward as far as he could. His stomach muscles started their own life as they rippled, undulating his little mound against the vacuous determination of his boy. He felt something boiling up inside him and he pulled Sebastian's head toward him as he began to rabbit fuck the boy's mouth. Sebastian tickled his cock with the tip of his tongue just the way he knew made Wil crazy. You could hear the cum rising in Wil as the squirming boy danced against the one who was trying to suck him inside out. As Sebastian rammed his finger in one more time and pressed hard against the sensitive prostate, Wil exploded in his mouth, his balls giving forth all they could as wave after wave of lust's gratitude sent chills of orgasm over the whimpering boy until he collapsed in the tub, gasping for breath as the water sprayed over top of the puddle of boys in the bottom.
As Wil's thoughts began their trip back to reality, Sebastian leaned forward and kissed him, his tongue snaking its way into Wil's mouth. He tasted a little of himself in the exchange as he kissed him back. Remembering that Sebastian had not cum, he kissed him back more passionately as only two young, inexperienced boys can.
He reached for his firm little rod and gave the head a little tug. Sebastian gasped and went even harder. He felt like he was stretching the skin as Wil lifted him upward and kissed down to his nipples. Sebastian whimpered as the pain of his erection was almost unbearable. Will kissed his way back up to his mouth.
"How do you want it?" he whispered in his ear as he kissed his neck. Sebastian grabbed the liquid soap and his intent was clear. Wil turned around and got on all fours with his back to the spray. He wiggled his butt as he looked over his shoulder at the scurrying hard boy preparing. Focused on the boy ride before him, Sebastian's breathing became more rapid.
Sebastian pumped a little soap in his hand and gasped as the cold soap slathered up his flaming hot rod and balls. Then he reached down and soaped up the waiting boy hole of pleasure. He dropped down, spreading Wil's legs, as his knees placed themselves between the mounds. Sebastian reached up and fondled the balls and nearly limp dick as he pulled Wil back towards him by the handful until the slippery tub made Wil drop down on his arms in front, presenting the pleasure path up high and right in front of his flaming staff of boyhood. He lined it up, placing the stretched tight head against the soaped ring of heaven and pushed it in ever so slowly.
As the head passed through, Wil gasped at the fire it carried and his girth didn't seem to be that of the boy twig he had held in his hands just minutes before. It felt like the boy had traded it in for a baseball bat. Wil tried to relax and push back, but with little relief. Suddenly, the little boy shoved what felt like a man-sized dick to the hilt as Wil came up off the floor of the tub, his hands pushing him up and he thrust his head back, gritting his teeth. Sebastian wrapped an arm around his chest and grabbed for Wil's package and started to stroke it. The hand around Wil's chest found a nipple and he rolled it and tugged as he gently bit the muscle covered tendon rigidly presenting itself by Wil's shoulder. Having Wil squirming in pain and delight, he began the push and pull of wanton boy lust. As the cum boiled deep inside of Sebastian's love, he slammed his pelvic mound faster and harder against the rigid boy statue in front of him. His hand left Wil's package and his fingertips grazed the ripples of his abdomen and then, with his flat palm, he pulled firmly on his boy as he rammed harder and then with a yell, thrust forward and stayed. Then again; and then once more as he held firmly against his boy's all. His passion ebbed and together they slid into a pile of spent boy love in the bottom of the raining tub.
They lay there until a knock came on the door. "Hey, you guys alright in there? Better hurry up, the popcorn is getting cold."
They got out and dried off amidst the giggles and blushes as one eyed the other discretely. As they opened the door and made their way downstairs in their clean underwear, Wil grabbed his phone and pushed Jamie's speed dial number and held it up to his ear.
My apologies for the length of time between this and the previous chapter. Life just happens sometimes and has to be dealt with. I'll endeavor to be more timely in the future. Thanks for hanging with me.
I now have a list that sends out new writing and new chapter notices. It is never shared and it is never used for anything else. No pass alongs, charm mails or even patriotic stuff. That is not the purpose of it. To join just email me and I'll add you. Getting off is just as easy. Shoot me an email and as soon as I stop crying I'll push the delete button. My email is: email@example.com
I would like to thank Mark, my editor. They have just been through an evacuation for flooding and he still found time to edit for me. He is the best. He makes it look like I have a clue. Thanks to his significant other for letting me borrow him. Anyways, if you would like to tell him how great he is, firstname.lastname@example.org
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