Date: Mon, 20 Dec 2010 05:14:03 -0800 (PST) From: Tague Micheals Subject: One Little Indian Boy This started out as a part of ENCOUNTERS WITH BOYS III. I wanted to make it into a stand alone story so I have. If you've read it already, the next chapter is completed and will post almost immediately. Nothing has changed in this part but of course, re-reading it to get caught up with the story is always good. I actually see this boy once in a while. In real life he's 19 but I was so taken with his looks and stature I had to do a story so imagined him at 13-14. I have not seen him naked nor have I had any sexual contact with him nor will I ever have. This is only a story and one that I hope you enjoy. The title comes from the children's verse: "One little two little three little Indians; four little five little"...etc. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I had just gassed up outside of Ephrata in I-90. Coming from Kalispell where I'd been visiting friends and doing some fishing on Flathead, I was headed toward home. Well part of home, because I had two, places I stayed that is. The place that I was headed was the family farm on the Snohomish river. 476 acres of farmland and fields with the requisite horses, cattle and cats and dogs. The other place was a two bedroom house in the Montlake area, a short hop from the UW medical center, where I lived most of the time while I was attending medical school. I was currently on summer break and relishing every bit of it. I had big plans to do nothing; absolutely nothing for the next month and with my parents, as well as my own, money that would be very easy. Oh, I had promised my family that I'd do some work around the ranch, and I would, but not before I'd gotten in some solid relaxation. It was about 4 in the afternoon and I was looking forward to being home in a little over 3½ hours and I'm sure that Snookie was as well. Snookie, Snook or Snooks for short, was my best buddy. A 5 year old Hovawart, he was loyal, protective, loving and laid back, the perfect dog for me. I'd gotten him as a 6 week old pup when I was discharged from the Navy and trained him myself. I took him everywhere with me. I was 200 feet from the westbound onramp when I saw a car that had come off the freeway stop at the bottom of the ramp with a turn signal on. The passenger door opened and a guy got out, quickly closed the door, then ran across the 4 lane road to the onramp, where I was about to turn. The guy, it looked like a guy, stopped about ten feet up the ramp and waited. Clearly he was hitchhiking. I didn't generally pick up hitchhikers and not for any particular reason. Much of my generation thumbed everywhere although I'd never had a need or desire to do so. Sure enough as I started to turn, the obligatory arm went out and an interesting arm it was. It was in a cast, at least what I could see for most of it was covered by the arm of the jacket he was wearing, and yes it was a he. A fairly young he at that. As I slowed to stop just short of where he stood I noticed a number of things. Clearly he was a native boy, he couldn't have been older than 14 and that on a good day, he indeed had a cast on his right arm and it looked as though there might have been some bandages on his left hand. Oh, did I mention that he was as cute as any boy I'd ever seen anywhere. I stopped and he stepped toward the door then stopped because Snookie was right there wanting to introduce himself. I told the dog to stand down then jumped out and ran around to the other side and opened the door for the boy then took the pack that was slung over his right shoulder and dropped it on the floor behind his seat. He climbed in and I reached over him to grab the seat belt to hook him in before closing the window then the door, trotting around to my side, jumping in, buckling up. "Better say hello to Snookie before he licks you to death," I told the boy so he reached back with the casted hand and let the dog sniff him before he rubbed Snookie's muzzle. I headed onto the freeway and got us up to speed before either of us said anything and I started the conversation. "My name's Dakota," I said, glancing at him. I extended my hand and the look he gave asked if I just plain stupid or a special kind of stupid but he extended the casted hand anyway so I closed my fist and gently knuckled bumped him. "Sonny," he replied in a voice that had started puberty but had a ways to go before it made any difference in his voice. "My name is Raymond but everybody calls me Sonny." "Where you headed Sonny?" He shrugged his shoulders and after about a 10 second delay said, "I don't know. Bellingham, maybe Oregon." He didn't offer up any more information but asked where I was headed. I told him and he asked if it was close to I-5 because he figured that would be the quickest way to get to where he needed to go. I explained that I lived maybe a half hour from there. The boy didn't seem to want to talk so I didn't press it. Obviously he was on the run and there was a 50% chance that the cast and his bandaged arm were part of the story. I glanced at him from time to time and the few things I could tell were: he wasn't very big, that he had long hair, French braided down along the hairline on each side then put into a pony tail that seemed to go half way down his back and he needed a shower. It wasn't that bad but it was there. Having his clothes washed was right up there on the to do list as well. Snookie finally decided that no more pets or rubs were forthcoming so lay back down on the seat. Forty minutes later we were coming on to Ellensburg, the last place with a variety of options for food. Everything from there to Seattle would be fast food or diner fair. "I'm getting hungry Sonny. I haven't eaten since I left Montana. Are you up to eating?" He nodded his head. I caught the exit that I knew had access to the most restaurants and a few minutes later pulled into a parking lot. He managed to get the door open but the seat belt was causing him some difficulty. I reached across him again, unbuckled it then stepped out of the way. He mumbled a thanks as he stepped past me then waited while I put out some water and food for Snookie then we headed inside. We managed to snag a booth in the front window so I could keep and eye on the Jeep since it was open and I had stuff inside, not that anyone would try to take anything with Snookie on the case. I looked at the boy and when he finally made eye contact I asked if there was anything in particular that he'd like to eat. He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm guessing that having both of your hands slightly incapacitated might impose some difficulty with certain food choices," I said and he gave me a blank look, then said, "It might." He opened the menu and began looking it over while I continued to look him over. While I hadn't been able to look at his face but for a moment, what I did see made my heart jump a little. Sonny's skin tone was a nice, native brown with the high cheekbones typical of Plains Indians. He had large dark eyes framed by thick brows and decent lashes. His forehead appeared to be a little less than 1/3 of his facial length, equal thirds considered to be perfect by those people that determine such things. His chin seemed a little narrow but that may well have been an illusion caused by the sharpness of his cheekbones. From what I'd seen he was blemish and hair free and possibly one of the cutest boys, native or otherwise, I'd ever seen in my life. "At the risk of being directive we might want to consider an appetizer plate," I said, pointing to an image of it on his menu. He looked at it then nodded his head. We closed the menus and before I could say anything else the waitress was right there with large glasses of water. A grandmotherly type she clucked over Sonny's injuries and the boy actually smiled at the attention, showing plenty of white teeth that, while maybe not orthodontist perfect, were certainly magazine cover perfect. And, if it were possible, he looked even cuter. The smile was still present when he turned to face me for the first time since he gotten in the Jeep. "Where were you at in Montana?" He asked. I told him, explaining that I was on break from school and he wanted to know what I was studying. "Why a doctor," he asked sincerely. I explained that my father had been a very successful surgeon up until his death, his father had been a doctor and professor at Yale medical, and his father before him had been a physician. My mother was also a doctor, although retired and volunteering overseas, and her father still taught medicine at UCLA. I have three sisters that are in medicine as well. I'd been a medical specialist in the Seals, found that I had an aptitude for it, along with other talents that were more destructive than constructive, and decided to go for it when I'd been discharged. "Which," I said, "gives me a perfect segue to asking what happened to your arm and hand." His face clouded over and he became guarded again, clearly his injuries weren't something that he wanted to talk about. After a second I said, "Okay, we don't have to talk about it but that cast looks pretty shoddy and worn out. I can get you into the med school to have some new x-ray's done of the arm and put a new cast on it for you, also change the bandages on your hand." His response was, "Maybe." He was quiet again and I gave him another second or twenty then asked where he was coming from. He said that he'd left the Standing Rock Reservation 4 or 5 days before. He'd done a great deal of walking. When I asked what his tribal affiliation was he said Lakota Sioux. His eyes got wide when I asked which band. "Oglala," he said quietly. I nodded my head then offered a greeting in the most spoken dialect of the Sioux. His eyes opened even wider but before he could answer I told him we might be related somewhere in the past, that I was Hunkpapa. "Of course if I cut my finger I'd be out of the tribe but still, I claim decendency." I went on to explain the matrilineal connection and felt that the boy listened with an attentive ear. Knowing that we shared some common history seemed to make a difference to him, which was pretty common in Indian country. Our meal came and Sonny started the process of wiggling out of the zippered sweatshirt that he was wearing. I got out and helped him by pulling on a sleeve cuff. Once it was off we both dug in, eating more than talking. I couldn't help but notice that he had problems maneuvering the fingers on his left hand but still, he practically wolfed his food down, bits and pieces dropping onto a dirty t-shirt. We finished by each having a piece of apple pie that Sonny said was pretty good and I felt was soggy and mostly tasteless. When we were finished I needed to wash my hands, the collection of finger food we'd eaten had greased up my fingers, and in the restroom Sonny went into the stall and I used one of the urinals. I heard him curse under his breath and figured that he was probably having difficulty with the zipper as well as getting his dick out through his underwear, if he was wearing any. I asked if he needed some help and he said no, a little sharply. I didn't take it personally, understanding that it was frustration at being handicapped. A moment passed then in a soft voice he said, "Can you help me please." I went into the stall and he turned to face me with his arms in a position allowing me to help. I had him turn back around to face the toilet, reached around his waist and got the button undone. He'd already gotten his jeans unzipped so I slipped my fingers into the waistband of his briefs right at his hips then pulled the front down so that his cock could flip. "A little lower," he said quickly, "you caught my nuts." I whispered sorry, did as he asked then stepped back. "You know, I think that a shower and laundry is in order Sonny," I told him. The sound of his stream hitting the water echoed in the stall and he asked me if it was bad. I told him I wouldn't have wanted to be stuck in a small closet with him for more than a few minutes and he actually laughed. Not a big laugh but enough for me to enjoy the somewhat high pitched sound. Sonny said that he hadn't showered in 5 days and I said I knew that and he chuckled again and apologized. I told him not to worry about it. He pissed for a good 45 seconds, which is a long time really, before it slowed to a dribble and then stopped. I figured he hadn't pissed for hours. His casted hand moved and I guessed that he was shaking off, then he worked to pull his underwear back up. I saw that he was struggling to get them in place at his hips so said "here," to give him some warning then reached around him again, caught the waistband and pulled them into place. "How's that?" he said it was fine so I got his jeans up, buttoned and zipped. I stepped out of the stall so that he wouldn't have to have eye contact with me and thus feel embarrassed about it. Outside I took Snookie for a walk to do his business in the vacant lot next to the restaurant then poured the water out of his bowl, stowed it and got back on the freeway. We still didn't talk too much, mostly because of wind noise, but the weather was nice and I guessed that Sonny had never been to this part of the country so was busy looking around at everything. He was especially attentive as we headed up into the mountains, the boy never having been that high above sea level. It appeared to be cloudy on the western side so I stopped at Snoqualimie and put the top up before heading back down into western Washington. With things quieter we made small talk as we rode. Sonny had just completed 8th grade, and unlike most every other kid he knew, loved school. Life was tough on the rez but he'd managed to stay out of trouble, unlike me, I'd told him, then told him my story. I started acting out about his age for what ever reason. Maybe it was due to the huge social changes of the late 60's, or being different than my staid and proper parents and older siblings. Who knew and what did it really matter. At 17 I was given the choice of the military or jail and I chose the military. Somewhere I'd learned about the special forces and figured I was tough enough to be a navy Seal. I found out how tough I wasn't but I was stubborn. I discovered that I loved the physical discipline, loved learning the self defense stuff and how to shoot a variety of weapons. I also loved the camaraderie. I also came to the realization that I was gay although I didn't tell that part to Sonny. I think that I knew it all along, or at least since I'd started puberty. I'd done my share of messing around with other boys when I was in middle school; it was pretty common. But by 10th grade most of us, including me, were dating and getting laid. I was convinced that because I was plunging my hungry cock into pussy on a fairly routine basis that I was straight. While I was in the Philippines I'd been picked up by a 14 year old boy one night. I was fairly drunk and had somehow strayed from my buddies. The boy had taken me to his home and had his way with me and vice versa but was more than strange since his family was in the house. When he sucked my cock it took me back to my middle school days and I'd discovered what I had been missing for the past 5 or 6 years. I fucked him that first night, my first time with a boy and I found that pussy just didn't compare to it. I asked the boy if I could see him again, which delighted him and his parents to no end. Of course I gave him money but I also made him promise not to have sex with other men. He promised me he wouldn't and when I finally left 6 months later I had no doubts that he kept his word. I didn't have any problems with him being with another boy however and that proved to be an interesting variation for me because on more than a few occasions another boy joined us. Spending an entire day, naked and romping with a pair of horny young Filipino boys was exciting as all hell. There were other boys in other countries but that's another story. In any case Sonny seemed to appreciate my story and may have created a little deeper friendship. I'd already decided that I was going to the house in Seattle instead of the ranch. I wanted to make good on my offer of getting his cast replaced, assuming that it would be necessary. It could well be that his injury wasn't healed and a new was warranted. I also wanted to get the bandages changed on his left hand. We finally made it to the city and Sonny's attention heightened from Factoria onward. The boy had never really been anywhere. I had taken 405 from 90 up to the 520 which dropped me off practically at my front door. We pulled into my house a little after 8. I jumped out to open the gate to my driveway and let Snookie out as well since he knew we were home and was excited as all hell. The dog immediately pissed on a couple of trees before I whistled for him to come then closed the gate behind him. Under the carport I unloaded my stuff and grabbed Sonny's pack as well and he followed me into the house. My place is a cute little bungalow that my parents had bought when they first moved to Seattle after WWII. As I said, it was a hop skip and a jump to the UW medical center and not that far from the hospitals on pill hill. Before my third sister was born they moved to a larger home and rented out the one I lived in. All of my siblings had lived in the house while they attended college since it had been paid for since before I was born and thus one less expense for my parents, although money was never a concern. Each generation had been very successful in their careers and their largesse had been handed down to their children. We entered into a moderately large room that was a storage, laundry & mud room and I immediately took my shoes off. "Are all of the clothes in your pack dirty Sonny," I asked, assuming he had clothes in there and he nodded his head. I told him to dump them out and while he did that I nosed around for a couple of empty and clean plastic bags, which I found. "Okay, here's the deal. Unless you have a better idea Sonny, I'll cover both of your hands and your arm in the plastic bags so you won't get them wet." "How am I going to wash then?" "Well," I said, "that's the rub. I'll take a shower with you and help." He got a confused expression on his smooth brown face. "I know. It's not the ideal solution for you but in the long run it's the easiest one. If it's any consolation I had to take showers with other guys all through high school and the navy. I've had to bathe a couple of guys before that were wounded and couldn't bathe themselves and I'm a doctor, sort of." I stopped there to let him digest that information. "I haven't been able to really clean myself well for 3 weeks," he said in a voice that even softer than his usual low, soft tone. I nodded my head. "Take your t-shirt and jeans off in here," I said, "I'm going to do the same. Then we'll take your braids out so I can wash your hair. He got a pained look in his eyes so I asked him what was going on. "I really like having my hair in braids Dakota." I smiled at him and said that I'd braid it afterwards and he gave me a very skeptical look. "Three sisters," I said by way of explanation. Truth was I could French brain with the best of them. We both stripped to our briefs, his clearly in need of a washing. I had him follow me to the bathroom where he sat on the toilet while I managed to get his braids undone and brushed out then I bagged and duct taped his arms. I got the water going then asked Sonny if he was ready. He nodded his head. I shoved my briefs down and stepped out of them and he watched me for a moment, looking directly at my crotch before starting the process of trying to get his down but was having trouble. "Here, let me help." I reached over and tugged them down, looking of course at his boyhood charms although it would have been difficult not to see them since they were right in front of me. He stepped out of them and by the time he'd straightened back up I was stepping into the bathtub shower combination with Sonny right behind me. As I got under the spray considered what I'd seen; about 5 soft inches of uncut penis with the foreskin about half way retracted. The hair down there was pitch black but there wasn't a huge amount of it and it was pretty much just at the base of his cock, medium size balls that seemed in full hang. After rinsing my front I turned around and tilted my head back under the spray and when I opened my eyes Sonny was trying hard not to look at my dick. I reached around and peeled a cheek open then motioned for him to come forward. We traded places, our bodies touching as we did so but it was unavoidable. My shower head was stationary so as he stood in front of it he used one of his bagged hands to scoop water up under his balls and when he flinched backwards I assumed that one of the more rigid creases scraped him. He turned back to face me and tilted his head back under the spray and I got a much better look at him. He was a growing boy but still young, his fuzz now flattened against his pubic bone. He was thin, almost too thin, the rest of his body smooth and hairless. He raised his hands to try and get all of his hair wet but I interrupted him. "Let me help you with that Sonny." I stepped up next to him and reached behind him to scoop his hair up toward the water. My cock essentially rested against his belly but there wasn't much I could do about it. When the hair was completely soaked I guided him forward a little bit then reached behind him with both hands and pulled his butt cheeks open and hoped that enough water got in there. When his hair was thoroughly soaked I had him turn and face the spray while I shampooed his hair, scrubbing his scalp with the balls of my fingers. I heard him sigh then saw his body totally relax. I smiled to myself. It took about a minute to get his hair washed and four times that long to get it rinsed but once it was done I wrung as much of the water out of it as I could then worked conditioner through it, particularly the ends. That task completed I grabbed the bar of Dial and began. I won't give a blow by blow description except to say that I started at the shoulders and left the good parts for last. I massaged Sonny's shoulders and I swear I could hear him purr. I enjoyed running my soapy hands over a boys' body and Sonny's was no different. I liked boys that were compact and Sonny was. As I said he was slender to a point of being skinny, about 5'4 and couldn't have weighed more than a buck fifteen soaking wet. When I did his groin I was kneeling beside him with one hand on his butt and as my other hand came up his inner thigh he moved his opposite foot outward. My hand was lathered and when I rubbed his balls they were slippery. Sonny gasped out loud as I fondled his nuts then moved my hand back and forth between his legs a couple times. I then handled his cock, soaping the soft flesh vigorously. I peeled his foreskin back and washed the head, squeezing it and causing it to squish out of my hand. All the action caused him to gasp again then I felt him respond to my ministrations. Using my hands as guides I turned him back toward the spray and gently cleaned the soap from his rapidly swelling cock head. I learned how soap affected me in that state when I was 12 and made sure it never happened again. I continued to fondle him while he was under the spray, the intention, honestly, to get the soap rinsed off. It worked but by the time I was finished he was half way hard and on his way to a full on chubby. I re-lathered my hand then went to his backside, slipping my fingers between his cheeks and running my fingers across the puckered muscle of his hole. I heard him inhale sharply again. In washing his hole my fingers moved far enough forward to push against the sensitive underside of his balls and I swear that the boy shivered. I turned him around again and peeled the cheeks open to rinse his most secret spot and lathered and washed him again. He had been clear about not doing a good bathing job for a while and while I wasn't positive the first trip through had felt just a little crusty on the softer flesh at the very edge of his muscle. If Sonny had any problems or concerns about me being there he didn't give me any indication of that. As I washed his hole, rinsed and re-washed I couldn't help but notice that he'd gotten raging hard, his cock standing proudly at attention. I could see the head peeking out from beneath its little hat; the flesh a blushing red tone. I felt my own dick begin to rise. I stood up and backed him into the spray, letting the full force of it hit his hair. Sonny looked down at my cock, which by then was pointing at his knee and not his toes, while I began quickly soaping my body. I made a production out of squeezing and tugging on my soapy balls as well as my cock. I did a quick pass over the head then told Sonny that I needed to rinse it so we traded places for a moment. After rinsing my crotch and cleaned my asshole I was full on hard, a good 7 plus inches of cock pointing to the ceiling. I moved Sonny back under the spray and made sure that all the conditioner was out of his hair then nodding toward his cock I said, "Taking care of that must be difficult for you with both hands messed up. How long has it been?" "Over a week," he said, his voice laden with lust. "Would you like me to relieve the pressure for you? I don't mind." He didn't seem to need any time to make a decision but quickly nodded his head. I reached for the bottle of conditioner and poured some in my hand then knelt before him. With my left hand I pulled his foreskin back then wrapped the hand around his smooth balls. The right hand went over his swollen cock head and I twisted the hand as though unscrewing a bottle cap. Sonny's mouth dropped open, he inhaled an inordinate amount of air and his eyes crossed then he shook his head. Clearly I'd struck a hot spot. I quickly ran my hand up and down the shaft, extending my tightened fist over back and forth over the head. I tugged on Sonny's balls while I jacked him off and before long he was panting loudly and I knew that he would squirt fairly soon. He did. The first jet shot up over my shoulder, just the end of it resting on the clavicle. The second and third squirts went pretty far too, splattering my shoulder, nipple and upper belly before the cocklet went into oozing mode and I continued to milk the boy for every drop that was in him. I had to put an arm around his waist in order for him to stay on his feet. The show finally ended and of course Sonny wanted to know if I was going to squirt as well. I asked him if he wanted me to and he said yes. I stood, squirted a fair amount of conditioner the palm of my hand and went to work. I was thinking that it would have been nice to have the boy help when he put voice to my exact thoughts. "If my hands weren't fucked up I'd help Dakota," he said, looking me in the eyes for a brief moment then returning his gaze to my crotch. My eyes were roaming over Sonny's body, taking everything in. He wasn't particularly well built but all the crevices and creases were in the right places, his belly flat as a board except for those creases at his hips. An outtie belly button rested at the bottom of the crease that separated his pectoral muscles and there wasn't a trace of hair between that and the moss at the base of his still hard cock. Overall his body was no different than a million or so other boys around the world but his face was a different story. My free hand moved to cup and fondle my balls, and tug gently on them. "I like that too," Sonny informed me, "pulling on my balls when I jack off." As I closed in on my orgasm I wondered how long I'd get the boy to stay with me and whether or not he'd be willing to play some more. "Here it is Sonny," I said suddenly and we both watched as a long thick stream of sperm shot out of my dick and hit the boy in the crease between his balls and his inner thigh. That was followed by another one that actually landed on the underside of his cock about half way up and draped downward across his sac, the end hanging off his balls before dropping to the shower floor. Before that happened another stream erupted and barely missed his smooth nuts, the next one traveling even less. From there I got a couple of burps of sperm and the rest simply oozed out. I re-positioned my hand so that my foreskin slid back and forth over the sensitive head creating some great after cum shivers. I really felt sorry for boys or men that were cut. Poor bastards had no idea what they were missing. "Wow," was all Sonny said when I'd finally finished. It took a moment for me to catch my breath then I grabbed the soap and re-washed the boy's groin, cleaning my sperm off then turning him around to rinse him off. I skinned his little hat back to clear out any residue of his own cum then switched places with him to clean my own dick off then shut the water off. I stepped out of the shower first and got Sonny a towel then went about drying myself off. The boy continued to stay hard throughout the entire process. Done, I told him to wait a second, then opened the bathroom closet and pulled out a spray bottle and sprayed his hair, telling him that it was great for helping get the tangles out of long hair. He didn't ask why I had some and I didn't volunteer the information. I then sat on the toilet and using a vent brush that I'd also gotten from the closet, combed his hair out. "Are you going to braid it for me Dakota," he asked and I nodded my head. I traded places with him and proceeded to French braid each side then pull them together in a pony tail which I dried slightly using a hair dryer from the closet. When he was done he admired the job, surprised at what I'd done because I had braided his hair with an overhand movement which caused the braid to be underneath and not on top as is usually done. It was something that he'd only had done to his hair a few times before. "Now what," he asked. His cock had finally softened, something which I seemed compelled to comment on. "You almost sound sad that it deflated on you Sonny," I said as we walked to the laundry room to get a load of wash going. "Well," he said and didn't say another word. I turned and smiled at him. "Well," I said, drawing the word out just as he had, "let's take a look at your hands, maybe get the one in the cast washed and we'll see what happens from there. "Okay," he said with a genuine smile.