Date: Mon, 5 Feb 2001 04:09:09 EST
From: Yip3@aol.com
Subject: Sterling Ducat Chapter 3

	"SFSSssst!! Hiiiissssssss!! Reawwww!!! Hiiiissssssss!!!"
	Sterling groggily stirs at the sound of the cat going berserk. As
he lifts his head, trying to get his tear sealed eyes open to locate
Forest, a cloth bag is thrown over his head and he is pushed back down to
the ground and held there.
	"HEY BOYS!! I'VE FOUND `IM.!! I GOT HIS FRESH ASS OVER HEAH!"


Sterling Ducat

Chapter 3

	 Sterling, trying to catch his breath from the shock and being
pushing back down to the ground, starts struggling as hard as he can.
Before he has really begun, the guy who bagged him sits on him, effectively
pinning his arms under him because he tried to catch himself when he went
down.  When he tries to yell, he gets a mouthful of the sack and can only
make incoherent angry sounds.

	"Y'ALL COM'ON!", the guy yells, "HURRY YO' HORNY ASSES UP!"

	Sterling is beginning to panic, especially when a hand starts
feeling up his ass cheeks, squeezing them and between them too.

	"We gonna work yo' man pussy hard tonight, boy," says a voice close
to Sterling ear.  "We gonna stretch dat hol' deep and wide.  When we're
through, you ain't gonna be able to sit on fire plug wid out it slipping
inside yo' smelly boy cunt."

	Panic sets in!  Sterling fights for all his worth, but being held
down with his arms pinned under him.  He is trying to buck the dude off or
trying to roll enough to free at least one arm to help fight off the
attacker.  Sterling is a virgin and he only thinks about being raped.  He
tries to do more as he hears a number of others running up.

	"Oh, yeah.  Look at dat ass, y'all.  It just squirming like a worm
on a hot tin can.  I gonna ride a buckin' butt tonight," says a new voice.
"Good grab, Joe Bob.  Let's grab his legs and hold `em still."7

	"You might not, Dale, get much of a buckin' butt since you go
third.  My horse meat is gonna take some of fight outta that hinny."  A new
voice brags.  "Y'all grab is legs and spread `em apart.  We need to warm
his boy hole up."

	Sterling feels hands grab his ankles to try to force his legs
apart.  He also feels a hand reach under his crotch to squeeze his nut sac
through his jeans.  He has never had anyone grab his testicles before, much
less squeezing and rubbing them hard like that.  The pain is hell.  He
tried to pull his legs from the hands that grip them and only manages to
lift his pelvis up some letting that hand on his balls gets a better grip
to squeeze harder.  He screams but his efforts are muffled by his sack over
his head.

	"Scooter, grab one of fuck boy's hands and tie on the rope," a
fourth voice speaks.  "Oh, yeah, fuck boy, we gonna string you up like a
gutted hawg.  Then we gonna dick yo' gut real good.  You gonna take it like
a good ol' sow."

	Sterling's left arm is allowed some freedom as he is rolled
slightly to his right side.  Just as soon as he can, he starts swinging his
fist trying to make contact with any body part of his captors he can.  He
does manage to hit a leg but without much strength since contact is made at
the end of his arm swing.  Before he can do any more, his arm is seized and
a rope noose is looped over it and tightens.

	"Tie it up on that limb," the fourth voice says.  "When Scooter
gets it tied, you and Dale cross his legs and we'll flip this `ho bag over.
Joe Bob, get ready to catch his other arm."

	Sterling pulls his left arm from the captor's hand but he can't get
it back close to his body before the rope around his wrist is pulling his
arm upward.  He resists as hard as he can but he only has the strength of
one arm battling the full body weight of the guy pulling the room.  As hard
as he works it is to no avail as his arm, pulled by the rope, extends
upward toward the tree branch.  Since he was also trying to pull his legs
together, the two have no trouble bringing them together and crossing them
at the ankles.  The guy, Joe Bob, who was sitting on him holding him down,
shifts off him.  Before Sterling realizes what is happening, his legs are
pulled backwards which, in effect, lifts him off the ground a little.  His
full weight is being borne by his left arm tied to the tree limb.  Before
pain sets in, his body is flipped over onto his back.  He manages to catch
himself with his right arm just as his body is coming back to the ground
but before he can start doing anything to defend himself with it, his free
arm is grabbed again.  Fighting to free his right arm and kicking his legs
to get them free, he doesn't get much of a chance before someone sits on
his things rendering his legs immobile and he feels another rope noose
tighten down on his right wrist.

	"Bitch, I'm gonna gnaw on these nipples but good," says the guy
sitting on his thighs whose weighs forward just a little as he bend
forward.  "I just might chew `em off."  As he seizes Sterling's nipples,
one in each hand, and starts to pinch, twist and pull them hard through his
shirt.

	Sterling is forced by the pain on his nipples to raise his chest to
get some relief from the pulling and twisting.  His attention diverted to
and concentrated on his nipples, he realizes at the last moment, too late,
that his right arm is being tugged upward like his left as the rope is
being tied to another tree branch.  At the same time he feels another set
of ropes tightening down on each ankle.  As he hears his jeans zipper be
pulled down, he opens his mouth to scream again.  Hardly a syllable of
scream starts when something is crammed into his mouth effectively cutting
off any sound.

	"Oh, don't worry, slut boy, you will git to taste some man juice so
don't start beggin' for it now.  Just keep dat sock in yo' mouth for the
time being, you'll get some tube streak complete with man mayo," snickers
Joe Bob.

	Sterling's pants are being dragged off and he can't even kick
because the ropes on each ankle are being pulled and are keeping his legs
straight.  The guy who was sitting on his thighs has moved off to the side.
At least the hard nipple torture has stopped for the time being.  By the
time that registers in his panicked brain, his jeans are passing his knees
and someone's fingers are hooking under the waistband of his briefs.

	"Leave his drawers on `cause I wanna cut `em off with my knife,"
Scooter says, "We'll see if he's got the balls to not move to protect those
self-same balls.  Unless, he want to be castrated?  I can do it for `im; my
pig sticker's razor sharp."  Laughter from the other guys follow.

	The hand that was set to pull off the briefs starts going inside of
Sterling's briefs as his jeans are being worked off over his sneakers.

	"Let's jus' see what surprise is in his `package' for us to play
with," jokes the fourth voice as yet unidentified.

	Sterling feels that hand going inside his briefs grasp a handful of
his pubic hair which is tugged painfully.

	"Boy, I'm gonna pull your wool out fistful by fistful.  You gonna
be smooth as a new baby's fat butt.  Aaahh, pubic hair.  Nature's dental
floss.  Ohhhh yeah, it's gonna ....  Hey, just a sec!"

	It barely registers in Sterling mind, silence has fell among his
rapists.  The hand that held his pubic hair lets go.  It grabs the top of
his briefs and yanks them down toward his thighs exposing his penis and
testicles.  When the elastic waistband is let go, it snaps him on his
balls.  He tries to yelp because of the pain and involuntarily jerks his
knees up but the gag prevents any sound and the ropes on his ankles prevent
movement.  A babble of voices breaks the silence as all of the rapists
start jabbering together.  Sterling is not able to make any sense out of
them fogged by his fear and the pain.

	"Pubic hai..."  "... what da fuck..."  "....mother fuck me if..."
"...and he's cut, too." "...shit, shit, shit..."  "...oh goddamn, oh
godda...."  " ...a big dick..." "....you fuckin' cocksuc..."  "....idn't
you look, Joe Bob..."  "....damn flashlig...."

	"HEY, BITCHES, WHAT DA FUCK ARE Y'ALL DOIN'?", yells a voice a
little distance away.  "Y'ALL SUPPOSED TO BE CATCHIN' AND RAPIN' ME!  WHAT
DA HELL IS GOIN' ON OVER THERE?"  The voice gets closer and closer.

**********

	Richie, Steph and Marshall are having a good time at the dance
club.  Dancing is just one of their common interests.  Richie and Steph do
most of their dancing with each other, naturally.  They dance well together
since they dance alot at home.  They do, however, dance with Marshall some
both individually and as a threesome.  Marshall does dance with other
friends who are at the club.  Whenever there is a song that is conducive to
line dancing, the three get a lot of notice from the other patrons because
they have worked on the same dance steps together.  When the "Harlem
Shuffle" is played, the entire dance floor is jammed but in an organized
manner with the crowd following and imitating Richie's, Steph's and
Marshall's special little dance nuances.  When the `shuffling' ends and a
slow dance number begins, the trio head for their table.  Several of the
patrons and friends give them praise for their dancing as they pass by.

	"Damn, I haven't worked out like that in way too long," says
Marshall.  "Shuffling is so much more fun than pumping iron in a gym and
praying you have the strength to keep your arms from dropping the weights
on your head."  Reaching for a cocktail napkin, he wipes the light sheen of
sweat from his brow.  He then reaches for his cocktail and takes a sip.

	Marshall is in mid-sip when Steph taps him on the arm almost
causing him to slosh his drink.  As he gains control of the glass, he looks
up at Steph when Steph says, "Let's go now.  There's video I just got I
want you to see.  Let's hurry `cause I can't wait to see your face when you
see it."

	"What??"  Marshall and Richie ask in unison.

	"Jinx!" adds Richie quickly adding, "What are video are you
flapping about?"  He barely get the question out when he feels Steph give
his thigh a double squeeze that is their signal to `just follow my lead.'
Steph is giving him `the look' so Richie,clueless, looks at Marshall, "Oh
yeah, yeah, that video.  Marshall you have just got to see this.  Let's
blow this popsicle stand.  Figuratively, that is."

	"But I haven't finish my drink," Marshall points out.

	"I'll fix you a fresh one at home.  For free too instead of this
overpriced cheap and watered down swill," responds Steph rising and moving
around to the side of the table where Marshall is sitting.  He takes
Marshall left arm and begins lifting him out of his chair.  When Marshall
is standing, Steph drapes his arm him and starts guiding him to the exit,
hurriedly.  Richie moves to Steph's other side and within a few steps the
trio is out the door and moving down the sidewalk without actually slowing
down.

	"Well, this had better be a good one, I tell ya.  I was having fun
tonight," complains Marshall.

	"I was too, Marshall.  Trust me, you'll be glad," Steph tells him.
Richie does not say anything since he has no idea what Steph is talking
about.

	Steph, changing the subject, says, "Did y'all see the way all those
other queens were following our steps during the `Harlem Shuffle'?  Maybe
we should open a dance studio on the side.  We could call it `Steph's
Steps', don'tcha think?  We could get rich and famous on the circuit party
crowd."

	"Drink a little too much tonight, Stephee?" Richie grins at him.
"Or have you gone daft?  `Steph's Steps' my ass, more like `Steph's
Stumbles' or maybe trips."  Richie starts giggling.  "Marshall, you heard.
Can you just imagine?"

	"Now, Richie, give the guy a break.  You know as well as I that
`Steph's Steps' is right.  That is, if you add `on Your Toes' at the end.
Yep, the name would be `Steph Steps on Your Toes'.  The company name would
be totally understood by the circuit party boys."  Marshall worked hard to
get his comments out without cracking up in a knee-slapping belly laugh.
When he finished, he throws is head back and disturbs with silence of the
night with infectious laughter.

	Richie tries mightily to hold his laughter back but ends up
snorting through his nose before joining Marshall.  Steph tries to put an
`I'm totally affronted' look and fails, fails miserably.  He, good
naturedly, joins his lover and friend.  All three are laughing so hard,
that when one of them stumbles on the sidewalk, all three end up stumbling
because by that time they had their respective arms draped over the
shoulders of the one standing next to them.  Their laughter doubles and
laughing so hard, their eyes start leaking tears and their noses start
running.  Naturally, trying to keep their noses from dripping causes them
to make that snorting noise which to adds to their mirth.  All the way back
to their condos, the friends are not able to make any more coherent
conversation.  People who pass them can't help but smile, giggle or laugh
too.

	Finally arriving at the condos, Steph gets the key in door and the
three of them pile into the condo.  Bowing in a formal manner, he ushers
Richie and Marshall into the door, " `Apres vous, mon amour et notre ami'."

	"Mer-cee, mon sewer" Marshall quips, intentionally butchering the
French language as he enters Richie and Steph's condo.  More laughing
ensues but more in control than out in the street.

	Snapping on the light as he enters, Richie says, "I gotta blow my
nose.  Anyone else need a hankie too?"  Without waiting for an answer, he
plucks some tissues from the box on the end table and hands them to the
other two guys daintily.  He lets the one for Steph flutter to the floor at
his feet, turns a quarter turn from Steph and assumes a demure, flirting
pose.

	"Sir, I do believe you have dropped your hankie," exclaims Steph as
he fluidly stoops for the tissue and gracefully presents it to Richie with
a flourish.

	"Why thank you, sir.  You are kind beyond reason.  I need this
wayward hankie for my baby to blow his nose.  He is so laughter filled he
has to blow his nose often."  Richie holds the tissue to Steph's nose.
"Blow for me, baby.  That's good.  Good baby."

	"Oh good grief, you two.  Get a room, a nursery room," pipes up
Marshall after he blowing his own nose.  He can't help but smile when he
sees Richie kissing Steph after calling him a good baby.

	"Ok, we'll cut you a break," offers Richie.

	"Y'all are a great looking couple.  And I'll take that break and
also that drink.  Steph?  You volunteered to bartender."

	"At your service.  What's your poison?"

	"Hmmm, let's see.  I oughta make it a hard one since you
practically dragged me from the club.  What the hell?  Gimme a bourbon and
coke.  Coke classic."

	"Comin' right up.  Plop yo' butt down somewhere.  Richie, whadda
want?"

	"Some white wine, babe."

	Marshall sprawls on the red and blue patterned overstuffed chair.
Richie takes one end of the matching sofa.  Steph bring over the drinks,
hands Marshall his and sits next to Richie.

	" `A votre sante'," toasts Steph, clinking his glass on Richie's
and Richie reaches across to Marshall to clink their glasses.  Steph and
Marshall raise their glasses gesturing with them to each instead of one of
them moving from their respective seats.

	After taking the obligatory sip, all three make those little
maneuvers and sighing sounds that go with relaxing.  Steph snuggles up a
little more to Richie, resting his head on Richie's right shoulder.

	"Damn, you mix a good drink, Steph," proclaims Marshall, "now what
is this video you absolutely insisted I watch?"

	"Er, well, hmmmm, uh, Marshall...."

**********

	"....WHAT DA HELL IS GOIN' ON OVER THERE?"  The voice gets closer
and closer.

	"Fuck, Mike, we're in deep shit.  Jim Bob thought this guy was
you."

	"WHAT??"

	"Shit, I couldn't tell.  Da fuckin' flashlight died and I thought
he wuz you.  I bagged `im `fore I saw his face."

	"Oh, shit, shit, shit...." a different voice mumbles in the
background.

	"He's got pubic hair.  That's when we realized he wuzn't you."

	"What the fuck we gonna do wid `im?"

	"Shut th' fuck up and lemme think," orders Mike.

	There some shuffling of feet on the forest floor, disturbing the
dead leaves.  Sterling starts to feel the leaves and twigs digging into his
ass cheeks and the waistband of his jockeys pressing on his testicles.
Still jazzed with fear, he forces himself to lie still and not to call
attention to himself.  It dawns on him that nobody has their hands on him.
When he somewhat recalls the last of the conversation between his would be
rapists, his fear tones down to a grave apprehension.  He realizes that the
next few minutes are very critical to his well being.

	"Listen up, ya dumb fucks.  Y'all git yo' asses outta here.  Go
home and stay there.  I'll talk to ya later.  I'll take care of this dude.
Go!  Go!," Mike tells them.

	Again a jumble of voices, "ok, Mike."  "Later, bro."  "I'm outta
here."  "Let's go, Joe Bob, you dumbass."  "Gimme a break.  I couldn't
tell."  The voices trail off quickly as the guys run back to wherever.

	"Hey, dude, don't worry nothin' gonna happen to ya."  Sterling
hears Mike speaking as he approaches.  "I'm fuckin' sorry about those
dumbasses.  They thought it was me when they grabbed ya.  It's a game we
play.  Tonight I was supposed to be the victim and they were supposed to
catch me and rape me.  They didn't mean no harm."

	Sterling feels a hand gently take his right arm and start untying
the rope from around the wrist.  Mike continues, "I'm gonna untie you so
hold still.  They didn't hurt ya, did they?"  Sterling catches flashes of
light from a flashlight bobbing across the bag covering his head.  When his
one hand is free, Mike starts untying the left arm.  Sterling uses his free
hand to take the gag out.

	"Lemme help you sit up and take dat bag off yo' head."  Sterling's
left arm is free and he feels two hands gently grasp him at the armpits and
helps him into a sitting position.  The bag is pulled off of his head.  A
hand brushes off the forest debris that is caught on his back.  "Here ya
go, dude."

	Sterling, with the bag off, turns toward the guy but only see a
shadow of another guy.  Mike moves to Sterling's feet to untie the left
ankle as Sterling grabs his briefs to jerk them back up over his privates.
The guy unties his right foot.  Standing he offers a hand to Sterling who
flinches back.  Realizing that Mike is offering a handup, he tentatively
reaches out to take the offered hand.

	"It's ok, man," softly says Mike, "I'm not gonna hurt you.  It's
ok.  Com'on let's get ya up on your feet."

	Sterling feels a firm yet gently hand take his and slowly pulls him
up to his feet.  He takes a step back, forgetting his jeans are down around
his ankles, and starts to fall backwards because of them.  Mike hasn't
quite released his hand when Sterling starts falling, so he firms up his
grip and pulls him back.  Sterling now lurching forward is again tripped by
his jeans and falls on Mike.  Mike stumbles back a little but does not
topple.  He hugs Sterling to his chest to stabilize him and once he is
steady, Mike releases him.  Mumbling thanks, Sterling bends over and draws
his jeans back up.

	"You ok?," asks Mike as he takes a step back from Sterling.

	Sterling does not answer.  He is still in a bad frame of mind from
the incident.  As he pulls his jeans up to his waist he feels some leaves
and twigs in the back of his briefs.  Holding the front of his jeans up, he
reaches back with his free hand to pull out the debris.

	"That shit gets everywhere, don't it?  Good thing it's not tick
season.  They're a bitch to get off."

	The flash in the mind's eye of trying to pick ticks off of his ass
causes Sterling to laugh a little which in turn helps break the tension.
Not all the tension has gone and his laugh turns a little hysterical.

	"Whoaaa, man!  You ok?"

	"Yeah, man, just gimme a minute, ok?" says Sterling as he tries to
wrest his control back.

	"Sure thing, dude," replies Mike.  "Let's sit down and rest a
minute so everything can calm down."

	They sit down a few feet apart from each other and lean back on the
tree that Sterling had been sleeping under.  They sit in silence, the
flashlight shining outward and listen to the sounds of the woods at night.

	Sterling suddenly jumps a little and snaps his head around to the
left, facing away from Mike.

	Mike laughs a little and tells him, "That's just a hoot-owl.  No
need to worry."

	Sterling relaxes and leans back against the tree.  "Sorry about
that.  Your friends have made me jumpy."

	"No problem.  I bet it wuz scary as hell when they grabbed and
starting talking about raping you.  I woulda shit all over myself if I wuz
you."

	"What kinda of fucked up game was that?  It was not funny in the
least," Sterling demands somewhat unkindly.

	"I can understand you bein' mad.  I don't blame ya.  It just a
little fun we have together.  We take turns being caught, tied up and get
gang banged like it wuz rape.  Nuthin' much to do around here.  We all grew
up together and always been kinda close.  We've always horsed around with
each other since we wuz little.  We inspected each other's pubes when hair
started comin' in.  We've measured our dicks and weighed our balls and
stuff like that.  I guess it is fucked up but we have fun.  It was my turn
tonight."

	"Well, you can have it as far as I'm concerned.  It doesn't like
sound `all that' to me."

	"I imagine it don't, dude.  By the way, the name's Mike."

	"Sterling."

	"Hiya, Sterling."  Mike sticks his hand out to shake.  Sterling
looks at it for just a moment and takes it, shaking hands briefly.

	"Pleased to meet ya, I guess, since you arrived before I really did
get raped."

	"You having pubic hair did that.  Ya see, we took turns shaving
each other's pubic hair last night.  When you were smooth, they knew you
wuzn't me."

	"Saved by a hair, huh?"

	"Yep, you got it, dude," Mike laughs.  Sterling laughs also.

	"What wuz you doin' out here anyway?" asks Mike taking a turn to
the serious.  "Nobody is in the woods at night by accident."

	"Well, me and the folks had bit of trouble or rather they had the
trouble.  I've been kicked out," whispers Mike not trusting himself to
speak much louder as the topic turned back to his family's rejection.

	"Shit, man.  You kidding?"

	"No.  No, I'm not."

	"Wanna talk about it?"

	"No, I really don't."

	"Ok, no problem.  Are you planning on living here in these woods?"

	"No, I am hitching to Houston.  I only got this far and decided to
catch some shut eye.  I thought I would be safe here except for possible
animals.  Animals, yeah, right."

	"Say, dude, take it easy on me.  Tell ya what.  To make up for what
we put you through, I'll give you a blow job or you can fuck me or both.
It's the least I can do."

	"What?!?" asks a shocked Sterling.

	"Yeah, Sterling, I will suck or let you fuck me or both to let you
get even with us."

	"No!  Er, I mean no thanks.  I just don't think so."

	"Are you sure?  It won't be a prob.  I've got rubbers and I'm
already lubed up anyway."

	"Lubed up?  What th' fuck does that mean?"

	"My ass already has KY jelly on and in it.  Trust you don't want to
get fucked up the ass without any lube."

	"Oh."  Sterling realizes he has a lot to learn about gay sex.

	"So, you want some of my man pussy?"

	"One of the guys said somethin' about a `man pussy'.  Now I get it.
A guy's asshole is his pussy."

	"Yep, that's right.  Man pussy."

	"I never thought about it being a man pussy." says Sterling.
"Pussy!  Forest!", exclaims Sterling as he scrambles to his feet.

	Mike get ups when Sterling gets up.  "Forest?  Dude, you ok?  This
is just woods."

	"No, you don't understand.  Forest is my cat.  He woke me up
hissing at whatshisname, something Bob."

	"Joe Bob.  You got a cat here wid ya?"

	"Yeah," confirms Sterling.  "Here Forest.  Here kitty, kitty."
Sterling tries looking out into the dark woods and continues.  "Forest,
kitty, kitty."

	Sterling and Mike start looking around the area.  Sterling is
calling for the cat over and over.  Mike is shinning his flashlight into
the brush.  Sterling is about to get up when he hears a little `meow' at
the a nearby tree.

	"Mike, bring your flashlight over here."

	Mike comes over and shines the light at the base of the tree
Sterling indicated.  They don't see anything but when another `meow' is
heard, he shines the light up into the tree.  Clinging to the branch with
all claws extended, Forest meows again.  Sterling can't reach him.

	"Sterling, I'll give you a boost up," Mike offers.  He put his two
hands together after setting down the flashing and tilting it on an dead
branch on the ground so the light still shines on the tree branch and
Forest.

	Sterling comes over and places a foot in the hand stirrup that Mike
is offering.  Mike lifts him up enough so he can grab the tree branch with
his left hand.  He reaches under Forest's stomach and tried to life the cat
off the branch.  Forest clings.  Sterling picks up the cat with a little
more force and the claws let go.

	"Gotcha," says Sterling.  Mike lowers him back to the ground.
Sterling hugs the cat to this chest, petting his head and scratching his
ears.  Mike reaches out tentatively and pets the cat's back.  They both
stand there and pet the cat for a couple of moments.

	"Thanks for your help," offers Sterling.

	"No prob."

	They walk back to the tree where Sterling's gym bag and Mike's
ropes and pillow case are still laying on the ground.  They both sit back
down.  Forest is still hugged against Sterling's chest.  Mike using his
flashlight to check his watch.

	"Dude, it's almost 4.  If you don't want a blowjob or to fuck me,
let me make the trouble we gave ya.  I'm heading to my aunt's just this
side of Houston to help her do yardwork.  Why don't I give you a ride?
This way you don't get picked up by a wacko.  We can leave now.  Since I am
only going to be for the day, I don't have to take anything.  I can drive
you on into Houston before I do to my aunt's."

	Sterling looks over at Mike.  He realizes he had not quite seen
Mike's face.  The flashlight was never pointed at his face.  "That'll be
great, Mike.  Thanks, thanks alot."

	The two guys get up.  Sterling picks up his gym bag and looks
around for a moment for the grocery bag before spying it.

	"Here, lemme help ya," offers Mike as he reaches for the gym bag.

	"Thanks," replies Sterling and lets him take it.

	"The truck's not too far from here.  Ready?"

	"Yep.  I think I got everything.  What about your stuff?"

	"Don't worry about it.  I'll come back and get it if one of the
other guys don't come first."

	Mike leads the way since he is the one with the flashlight.
Sterling follows a couple of feet afterwards.  Forest has started purring
again.  About five minutes later, they leave the woods and approach a dark
truck.  Mike opens Sterling's door first and sets the gym bag in the middle
of the seat.  As Sterling is getting in the truck, Mike goes around to the
driver's side, opens the door and gets in.  Before the interior goes off,
Sterling is able to get a good look at Mike's face.

	Mike has got a nice honest face and brown hair.  He smiles at
Sterling who smiles back.  They close their doors as Mike starts the
engine.  Flipping on the headlights, Mike pulls onto the highway and heads
toward Houston.

	"You got your seatbelt on?"

	"Yeah."

	"Ok, good.  You must be tired so grab a few.  I'll wake you up as
we get into Houston."

	"That'll be great, Mike.  Thanks"

	With that, Sterling moves around a little to get a comfortable
position, rearranges Forest and prompt nods off, dreamless, as he
approaches his new life in Houston.