Copyright 2012 by Carl Mason

All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. However based on real events and places, “Perilous Journey” is strictly fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. As in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold gradually. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author at

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This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both adults and teenagers. As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, mature, adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave. Finally, please respect yourself and those around you by practicing safe sex.


(Revisiting Chapter 7)

"There sure are limits to what I can handle," Rob replied. "The fact remains that really vicious pain and control fantasies are tearing me apart right now. I need help in draining off some of the pressure."

After sitting silently for a bit more than a minute, Scottie simply said "I hear you, son." Within the day, Guy Farmer had accepted an invitation to dinner. It was a good meeting. Rob appreciated Farmer's frankness and noticed the mutual respect between his father and their guest. On the very next evening, Rob donned a light jacket and jogged across the harvested field that separated their properties. A hall clock struck the hour as he knocked on Farmer's heavy oaken door.

(Continuing Our Story: A Glimmer of Light)

Almost in spite of himself, Robbie sat in that beautiful room feeling a near-kaleidoscopic mixture of peace, pain, hope, and fear of what the future might bring. The soft light falling on the richly polished wood, the magnificent accoutrements, the faint but complex herbal scents whose identification lay just beyond his consciousness, the fact that an important man's attention was fully focused on him and, most assuredly, the fact that he was so played out psychologically all weighed on him. For long months he had devoted so much of his energy to a determined attack on his deficiencies. He was wary of placing control of his actions in the hands of another, but, clearly, some new tactics were needed. As long as he felt that the freedom to accept or reject an idea was finally in his hands, he felt he should move ahead.

"Thank you for being on time, Rob," Farmer said, almost before he sat down. "As I grow older, the pressure mounts within me to safeguard my knowledge for those who desire it. Minutes count. Let the time we have be filled with strengthening action rather than mindless words. In that regard, at some point you may conscionably be unable to follow my directions. This can happen between honorable men. When and if it happens in our work, I ask you simply to withdraw from the program. Don't argue about minutiae. Do what I direct you to do. Answer any question I ask you fully and honestly. However difficult, especially for a young man, know that it is requisite to progress. Finally, my boy, believe that everything that transpires between us is privileged. I shall divulge the details of that which we say or otherwise do to no one. I ask you to observe the selfsame rule."

Freely and gratefully accepted, the power of the man reached deep into the soul of a young man who held a level of promise that, as yet, he hadn't begun to realize he possessed.

"So, Robert Thayer... Why have you asked to talk with me and, if we are in agreement, to enter into a program under my direction? Fully and honestly, young man... Again, you never need fear the slightest violation of your confidence."

"Sir..." Rob said in a low voice and great hesitation, "I find increasingly that my life is smothering me. Each day, I find that it is more and more difficult to breathe. On every side, I am told to 'take charge of my life'...the decision about going to college, choosing a program of studies, living in a fraternity or a dorm, or at I am to regard the behavior of my parents who finally kicked me out of the accept or fight homosexual desires with everything I've got...whether I want to build a love relationship with Scott Thayer and/or Andy Cooper... The list seems to go on forever!

"Sir, I'm scared of being shaped into a human being who just isn't me! At the same time, I feel increasingly guilty for feeling, acting, and thinking things that a 'take charge' human being just isn't 'supposed' to feel, act, and think. If anyone ever deserved to be punished, I'm that person! I wish...oh, I wish...that you would help me get this damned monkey off my back." (Pause.) "I can't take much more of it! It just isn't worth it."

Beginning to really break down, the tears running down his face, Robbie sobbed, "You see? I'm doing it again! I'm taking the lead in 'analyzing' what's wrong with me!" Holding out his hands in an entreating manner, he sobbed, "Please, Sir, please..."

Looking directly into youth's eyes, the white-haired man said kindly, "Come over here, Robbie, and sit at my feet." When the young man had situated himself, he continued in a steady voice, "Let's get right to it, Rob. Unless you receive different instructions, go immediately to the preparation room as soon as you enter this house and strip down... completely. Speak to no one. When possible give yourself a thorough enema and shower before arriving. When that proves impossible, quickly complete your preparation in the same room. You will find everything needed. Dry thoroughly in the 'dry-box' before entering the work area. Finally, before arriving for your next appointment, thoroughly remove all body hair below your eyes - and keep it off. Questions? No? Come with me then and I'll show you where things are located."

Farmer led the way downstairs (quite possibly into a subbasement) until they reached a long, dimly lit hall. Rob found that the tomblike silence chilled him to the core. Some distance down the hall, they found a locked door bearing the word "PREP" cut deeply into the wood. Entering, they found themselves in a well-appointed room - old but meticulously clean - that included lockers, a shower room, counters with individually-controlled lights and mirrors, bathroom facilities, and two tables which the old gentleman explained had multiple uses, including massages. A closet contained supplies and replacements for many articles, medical and personal. (For instance, he gave Robbie a bottle of a depilatory that he characterized as quick, easy, and safe.) From the preparation room, a door led directly into a medium-sized, beautifully equipped gym. The young man noticed that a few pieces of equipment appeared to be brand new.

"Questions, Robby? Very well, other than your hair removal and internal cleansing, complete your preparation and meet me in the gym." When the handsome young athlete rejoined him, Farmer calmly instructed him in how to stand "at the ready" physically and psychologically. "You will normally have routines to complete here in the gym," he stated, "but tonight you need only make one final decision before entering the last door. (Pause.) Choose carefully, Robert Thayer. Other than for the free decision to obey or to depart, do you place your life in my hands?"

Overcome, feeling he was on the verge of discovering the goals of his search, the naked superbly built young athlete sank to his knees, murmuring, "Yes, Sir, I am yours". As he was about to prostrate himself, Farmer grasped him under the arms and lifted him to his feet. As the lad stood proudly though breathing erratically, every muscle quivering, massively erect, Farmer folded him into his arms and kissed him with relief. The youth had made his supreme decision in favor of life.

Pushing a sliding wooden door to one side, enormous steel doors swung open on ball bearings to reveal the Master's playroom. No richly paneled room this, the two men stepped into a good-sized cave hewn out of solid granite. In the flickering light of torches, instruments of violence from many ages decorated the walls; a great stone slab stood at its center. (In 1945, American soldiers had "liberated" it from Nazi Germany which had sent archeologists around the world in a search for artifacts that would buttress its mythological claims. Made of a polished stone, it had originally belonged to an Aztec chieftain who used it as a ceremonial altar where he removed the beating hearts of young victims as sacrifices to the gods.) Statues of warriors and athletes, and several creatures unknown in this day and age save from dark legends - plus larger objects such as a beautifully preserved medieval rack, a roughly hewn St. Andrews cross, and an animal cage barely large enough for a man - were scattered about the room. Robbie felt the muscles of his chest, as well as his genitals tighten at the sight.

The young man sensed his host coming up close behind him. Allowing his body to ease back into his arms, the youth felt flesh brush across flesh. He writhed and moaned as the Master licked his skin and explored the taut, layered muscles of his lower abdomen. When moist flesh probed the lips of his anus and a finger plumbed the most intimate depths of his body, he could hold out no longer. His scream echoed against the granite walls as a flood of cum shot out from his rigid cock until it lashed the stone altar.

Moments later, realizing that he had temporarily blacked out, he found himself lying on the altar. In the glare of a strong light that illuminated his body, the rest of the room was shrouded in blackness. No matter. Out of the darkness, he clearly heard a voice that restored his courage. "Go, my son - even though your quest has barely commenced. After your party that will celebrate friends and the beginning of a new adventure, after the first week of classes and the excitement of your sport, return and we shall continue. I shall await you, fully prepared, here at the altar.

Still naked, his way lighted by no more than a faint, milky moon, he literally bounded home across the field in the chill of a fall night. Relieved - if only for a brief moment - of the burden that had been crushing him, he laughed. Tears came to his eyes, he actually did a cartwheel. In a muted young voice, he tunelessly crooned his joy! From a darkened window in his bedroom, his father looked down, smiling and thankful that his son was once again on track.

(The "Pre-Rat Race" Party)

Everybody came to the Friday night party a few nights later that celebrated the summer past and mourned the classes (and many other activities) that would begin on the following Monday morning. Scott had actually accepted the help of contingent of young men (prepared to eat him out of house and home in any case!) who got the machinery going that opened a portion of the back wall, thus extending the pool. Needless to say, people were swimming inside and people were swimming outside. The bottom line was that every one was having a great time - even though people were concerned about the atypically late heat and the wisps of strange colors that increasingly had invaded the night skies. Also, a few of his younger guests complained about the necessity of swim suits. (A few girls had joined their "steadies" - and there was also a goodly sprinkling of older faculty men and women.) Several of the grills, the largest tended by Coach Don, were constantly filled with tempting morsels. There were soft drinks and iced coffee (and rumor had it that if you took a short hike out to a couple of the parked cars, still more possibilities. Scottie actually mixed a few of those for some of his older colleagues and friends.) The only sad note was heard when Scott was indoors selecting additional food for the grills. One older man, who lived in one of the other tiny villages around Timothy, commented that he hadn't seen a shindig like this "since Josh was around". As far as Rob knew, the comment didn't get back to the "boss".

The "official" party finished up before ten, though a large group of jocks (footballers and wrestlers in the main) together with a bunch of popular guys from the Kappa House stayed around forever! (Most of the swimsuits had disappeared.) They were joined for some time by Guy Farmer. Most of the remaining partygoers, who were obviously feeling little pain, made sure a little after midnight that Robbie was appropriately initiated as a new Kappan and the Captain of Timothy's frosh football team. Afterwards, they gradually sought out informal sleeping nests where they generally remained until morning. Yep, the Thayers' opening party had been a good one!

But the University year had to dawn, didn't it? Oh, yes...

[Author's Note: Book One of "Perilous Journey" closes with this chapter. The posting of Book Two chapters will proceed without renumbering or other interruption.]

(To Be Continued)