Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2019 12:21:03 +0000 From: Embolisha Subject: The Indifferent This is a work of fiction. Just so you know. It may surprise some of you to know that the world is not run by multi national corporations. It is not even run from the halls of the Kremlin or the Oval Office. Oh there are back rooms where shady deals are done, the sum of which affects millions of lives for good or ill. No the world is run from only one place. It is a country all unto itself, though you have never heard its name. It does not appear on any map and yet it is large enough to be seen from space. Its citizens number less than a thousand and many of them have been born into service within the countries borders. Though they can leave at anytime not one has done so in five hundred years. Its borders are jealously guarded with but a one road leading into the interior, and not a single plane is permitted to cross its airspace. The rulers of this country are the real people who run the world though they care little for it, or its occupants. Their sole aim is to maintain their supremacy and they have had a great deal of practice in doing so. Would it surprise you to know that this country exists landlocked by the modern nation of Italy? No it is not the Vatican, I told you that you had not heard its name before and there is nothing remotely religious about it. No this country can be found (though it is not likely it will be by the likes of you,) not far from the old city of Firenze in the region of Tuscany. It is sheltered by rolling hills and old forests, and boasts a single town directly at its centre. When I say town, I mean really mean palace. It rises like a fortress imposing and businesslike from the outside but inside exists every luxury that the human mind can imagine. The grandest art of the ages graces its marble halls. The Mona Lisa sits where it has since Master DaVinci painted it in 1516. I have personally visited the Louvre in Paris and marvelled at how grand a copy the forgery is. It happens that as I write this an auction of sorts is taking place within the grand hall of this palace overlooked by that enigmatic portrait. The hall itself gleams with Italian marble that soars thirty feet to a vaulted ceiling overlaid in gold leaf. Figures wrought with exquisite detail, peer down from the beams. Many clutching gemstones within their mouths or hands. The filtered light illuminates a group of figures standing in a row with their heads held erect. 6 boys around the ages of 9 to 13 stand side by side facing a group of around 80 men and women. The boys themselves are all dressed in the same garment, a long white shift, open at the sides to reveal the skin of their flanks. Each of the boys have something in common, they are all stunning. Although they are from different racial stock they each represent as close to the pinnacle of perfection for their race as is possible. Behind them on the dais sits the current ruler of the planet. He has a name that some may recognise but most would consign to the annals of history. His name is Lorenzo Di Medici and this is his first audience after the passing of the old ruler also named Lorenzo Di Medici. It was believed that the Medici line died out somewhere during the 16th century but this is not true. The original Medici, Cosimo became the foremost banker of the 1400's and his son, Lorenzo who is the direct antecedent of the current man seated on the throne, charted a course for his entire family that still holds today. He decided to own everything, and as the city state of Florence was situated at the crossroads of the entirety of Europe, he managed to do just that. There is not a financial institution, bank or building society throughout the world that is not owned by the Medici. Oh we may think that they are sole institutions run by managing directors but in reality the CEO of each reports directly to the family. Many of those CEO's are present in the room today along with 5 members of Royalty and the presidents and prime ministers of the 8 most powerful nations in the world. They all wait on the pleasure of the man on the dais and he is of a mind to make them wait. Lorenzo himself appears as though he could have modelled for the original David sculpture. He is tall and beautifully built with a head of lustrous lightly curled brown hair which seems to fall with a grace all its own to frame his youthful face. Green piercing eyes regard the assemblage before him as he considers the offering. His eyes fall upon the first of the boys who stands with his head erect but his eyes downcast as is appropriate. The white shift that all the offerings wear is cut square across the neck and gathered with a small gold clasp at the apex of the shoulder leaving the shape of their collar bones and necks visible. This boy is of Asian extraction. In fact he is a member of the imperial family and has been bred for perfection. Lorenzo flicks his finger and lad raises his eyes to regard him and is rewarded by a widening of Lorenzo's eyes. Blue the colour of an ocean pool gazes back at him in unusually large eyes for his race. His hair is dark and cut short on the sides while leaving a longer section on the crown that falls softly to the side of his heart shaped face. His slender though well defined arms are held loosely and comfortably by his sides and are finished with graceful artisan hands, and on the middle finger of his left hand there sits a square ring holding a blood red ruby that would complement any of the Crown Jewels that grace the worlds museums. Again Lorenzo raises his finger and the young boy casually releases the clasp on his right shoulder allowing the shift to open across the his body. Only held by the single clasp on his left shoulder it falls like liquid to reveal the naked body beneath. Lorenzo looks down the well defined, though underdeveloped chest, to the long torso of the boy on display. His skin is light and soft as it curves in towards his hairless pubis. His uncut cock is not particularly large but it is well shaped and the foreskin covers the head in an appealing way. Without command the boy turns slowly to reveal his back. As he does Lorenzo notes the slender graceful S curve of his spine that merges into the cleft of his backside. His gluteals are larger that Lorenzo expected for one of his race but the effect is pleasing as the boy arches his back just slightly. Again without command he turns back towards the sitting man with all the grace of his heritage he kneels in submission. Lorenzo knows this boy has practiced extensively for this moment as the shift still clasped by one shoulder falls perfectly to obscure his sex as he rests on his knees. With a nod Lorenzo turns his attention to the second boy, a boy with skin like chocolate the finest milk chocolate that one can find. His slender frame hidden by the white shift promises much. There is a noble cast to his features and his hair is cropped short with designs shaved into the sides. Again Lorenzo flicks his finger and the boy raises his eyes to regard the ruler. His almond shaped eyes are almost the same chocolate shade as his skin and framed by long lashes at the outer edge. Full lips, high cheekbones and a well shaped nose come together to create a creature of sensual beauty. As the boy releases the clasp with his left hand who's middle finger contains only a band of the blackest obsidian, Lorenzo notes a fine musculature for one so young. A budding athletes body. His pectorals are firm and well rounded with small dark nipples gracing them. His stomach ripples down to his Adonis belt and a small waist where once again a smooth pubis gives way to his boyhood. Or should I say manhood. This boy already boasted a 6inch member that hangs flaccid against his thigh. Unlike the Asian boy beside him, this boy turns only half way keeping his shoulders and face focused on Lorenzo. The effect is startling as his incredible posterior is displayed to its best advantage. It almost appears that his waist is too small to support the body above. His well shaped thighs displayed to perfect advantage he bows his head and sinks into the same pose as the first candidate. Again Lorenzo nods and the third boy becomes the centre of the rooms attention. The lad barely manages to contain a tremble as he feels the weight of eyes upon him. He has trained for this moment and his shoulders remain square as his eyes bore into the carpet below the dais. He can see the man above in his peripheral vision and the expected movement causes him to raise his eyes to meet Lorenzo's. The man gasps. Here before him is a boy with perfect form as are all the others. He is Blonde haired with lightly tanned skin. His neck is long and graceful and there is a slight blush upon his beautiful face. These things were not what caused the man to gasp, it is the eyes that the boy turned toward him. Eyes that were not the expected colour for any he had seen. These eyes were wide and expressive but the pupils where a shade of gold that Lorenzo had never witnessed before. He studied the pulse beating furiously in the boys throat and again motioned. Without hesitation the lad slowly drew his hand up to his collar and released the clasp. As the shift fell to the side it revealed a slender body that descended to small hips. Soft pink nipples on a small chest with shapely hairless arms and legs. As all the others he was hairless above his sex which made his beautifully shaped cock and perfect balls stand out on display. As the boy turns he reveals a shapely back and tightly rounded buttocks that fall to his coltish legs. The small dimples the sit above his cheeks looks like a ripple on a bowl of cream. As the boy sinks to his knees Lorenzo notes the ring on his left hand is made of gold and Lapis Lazuli that complements to boys stunning eyes. The tableau remains unchanged for several minutes as Lorenzo maintains his scrutiny. The three kneeling lads move not a muscle awaiting instructions. There is an uncomfortable silence in the hall. The boys parents who where there to witness this moment hold their breaths, their hands clasped for support. If their son is chosen it could mean the saving of their house. Eventually Lorenzo's gaze shifts to the next in line, regarding the small boy who appears to be the youngest of the group. He stands quietly his softly rounded arms and small hands graced by a band of silver set with an amethyst on his left index finger. His skin is white like alabaster and his hair is burnished copper, falling straight to a page cut. Not a single freckle mars the boys complexion and at a gesture he raises his green eyes to regard Lorenzo. His face is angelic with a small delicate nose and full ruby lips. His expression seems almost to be set in a permanent engagingly soft smile with his wide trusting eyes giving a look of pure innocence. Lorenzo was sure that the look was entirely underserved. This boy was no innocent. The fingers flick and the soft dimpled fingers fumble at the shoulder clasp. The white material falls swiftly. Underneath is smooth skin. The boy stands as many boys his age do. The small of his back is curved inward on rotated hips pushing his smooth buttocks backwards while also displaying his beautifully rounded stomach with protruding belly button to best advantage. His small legs are planted firmly on his flat small feet. At Lorenzo's gesture the boy surprises by slowly bending backwards until his small uncut penis and smooth scrotum protrude obscenely towards the dais. He continues until his hands are place firmly on the ground behind his head. The effect is startling as his ribs, previously hidden, appear as his torso elongates to his performance. Without pause he continues as his chin comes to rest on the ground between his hands, his face pointed back towards the dais. With seemingly little effort his left leg lifts first, revealing the teardrop cleft between his small cheeks which winks enticingly. His right leg follows until the boy appears bent into a U shape. Lorenzo can see the boy's testicles displayed to perfection as his penis stands pointing to the vaulted ceiling. As the redhead continues his movement his legs bent enticingly, he comes to rest prone before Lorenzo, the white shift somehow remaining on the boys shoulder, although it puddles on the floor around him. With much more grace than Lorenzo had expected, the lad raises himself and assumes the same kneeling position as the three boys beside him. Though he doesn't show it, Lorenzo has difficulty shifting his focus to the next boy who waits patiently in line. This boy wears a similar signet ring to his rivals although his is white with a large half pearl rising from a gold band. His hair is shiny black and curls beautifully around his Polynesian face. A proud nose and black arched eyebrows over wide set brown eyes grace a high cheeked expression. Again there is a feeling of nobility in this one that Lorenzo is unsurprised by. After all these boys came from the most prominent bloodlines on earth. As the boy releases the clasp his beautifully proportioned body is on display to the room. Almost with a challenge his eyes capture and hold Lorenzo's. His dark nipples are small and hard with the material of his shift slightly grazing over his left nub. There is a valley running down his torso to his belly button and unlike the other boys there is a light dusting of hair above his genitals. He proudly shows a semi rigid 5 inch circumcised penis which displays a light pink helmeted head. His scrotum hangs down between his legs nicely in proportion although one ball seems to drag lower than the other. As he turns Lorenzo sees a tribal tattoo has been etched into his back. It is black and sensuous appearing as a thin wisp from the boys hairline sliding down his slender neck and tracing the ridge of a shoulder blade. It then curves first out to his waist then in to follow the indent of his iliac crest then towards his sacrum disappearing between the cleft of his smooth buttocks, only to reappear on the lower gluteal fold of each leg and in identical patterns wind its way to finish on the boys feet. The effect is erotic in the extreme and Lorenzo wonders if the tattoo is unbroken between head and foot. The boy turns again and his eyes slip from Lorenzo's releasing him as he sinks into his bow. The last boy standing has his feet slightly apart. He stands almost with defiance, his shoulders and arms held back with his hands clenched at his side. His appearance is middle eastern with a proud brow and full sensuous lips. He is perhaps 12 summers and he of all the group hesitates when Lorenzo indicates for him to disrobe. Behind in the gallery a low cough can be heard from a section of men dressed head to toe in Kandourah favoured by some in the east. The boy's dark eyes snap up towards Lorenzo and with little grace he releases the clasp on his shoulder. Underneath is a finely proportioned preteen body. Hairless as yet with a smallish uncut penis and tightly held scrotum. His high hip bones drag a graceful muscle line from his groin upwards, perfectly framing his lovely sex. A smooth unlined stomach with indented umbilicus and slightly curving pectoral mounds with coffee coloured nipples finish his upper body perfectly. He turns to Lorenzo's bidding, spinning quickly and standing feet apart and unconsciously displaying a pert backside. The ridges of his vertebrae are clearly defined between the defines of his lateral muscles as they descend to the small of his back, and smooth out in a small v above his cleft. His legs are slender with his thigh muscles providing a shapely line as they curve towards his knees. On his left index finger is a square cut pink flawless diamond on a band of white gold which he wears loosely, carelessly. He spins again to confront Lorenzo his face set into a haughty expression. The two regard each other for a moment before Lorenzo's eyebrows crease into a frown. Immediately the boys expression alters to one of submission and he sinks quietly into a bow the white shift splayed haphazardly to the side leaving the boy fully exposed. The assembled people in the hall shift restlessly as Lorenzo remains seated upon his throne. The hopes of many countries rely on the choice made today. The faces turned expectantly range from confident smiles to grim expressions mostly displayed from the middle eastern contingent. All remain silent and still. Finally Lorenzo stands. He is dressed in a deep blue lounging suit with a white shirt beneath casually opened at the neck. The buttons on the jacket are deep blue perfectly rounded and matched sapphires. He raises his hand and the kneeling boys rise to their feet, displaying no hint of the discomfort felt at holding their position for such a time. Most of the boys nakedness is still on display as the white shifts hang loosely from one shoulder. The crowd shifts forward expectantly as Lorenzo slowly descends the steps to stand before the first in line. Slowly he moves forward and his hand lifts to graze the Japanese boys soft lips. "Name?" He says softly. "Kirohito, Pater san." Comes the soft mellow reply. Lorenzo drags his finger down across the boys lips exposing his white small teeth. The boy parts his lips slightly letting just the tip of his pink tongue brush the descending finger.Lorenzo smiles in acknowledgment of the gesture and moves on to the second boy. He stands side on with the boy facing forward. Luckily it is the side that is not covered by the white shift and Lorenzo draws his finger down across the dark skin and nipple. Again he breathes in a soft whisper, "Name?" "Khari, Pater." The boy replies. Lorenzo knows in the language of the west African people this name means king. Lorenzo keeps eye contact as he leans slowly in and licks his tongue across the boys moist lips. Khari leans forward accepting the caress, his eyes wide with excitement. Lorenzo withdraws leaving a silver thread of saliva connecting him to this creature before him. He raises his hand and with his thumb breaks the connection pushing a little forcefully against the boys lips. Khari does not object or move as he again lowers his eyes and returns to his submissive position. Again Lorenzo moves to inspect the next candidate. The blonde boy with eyes of gold. He moves behind him tracing his fingertips across the boys clavicle then slowly moving his hand down his side til it rests gripping the lads hip. Again he asks. "Byron, Pater." Comes the reply in a voice that seems to contain both the child and the man to be. Lorenzo notes the swelling of the penis that is close to his fingertips as he returns to gaze into those captivating eyes. There is almost something hypnotic about them and with difficulty he drags himself away to the small copper headed boy beside him. The boy remains with his eyes downcast but imperceptibly moves his hips exposing his sex to the man as he approaches. His right leg splayed with his foot turned inward presents a clear invitation to the man before him and Lorenzo does not miss the opportunity. With the boys parents watching he runs his fingers down the child's back pushing his index finger into the fold between the boys cleft. There he finds a small opening and probes his finger inside the tight space eliciting a moan from the lad. "Virgin?" He asks "Of course Pater." the boy answers. "Name?" "George, Pater." Lorenzo's index finger is still lodged within the boys hole as he looks into the green eyes and smiling face that is before him. Without changing expression George tilts his hips and forces the probing finger deeper inside his sex. "A virgin not for long I think." Lorenzo smiles. In the gallery an immaculately dressed Anglo Saxon couple face each other and smile, thinking this day will yield wonderful results. Lorenzo removes his probing finger and brings it up to the boys lips which dutifully part to accept the offering before the finger is withdrawn and its owner moves on to the next in line. Here Lorenzo pauses to admire the tattoo that winds its way down the slender back. He traces a finger tip from the neck line to hip eliciting a shiver from the standing boy before him. As he nears the cleft of his buttocks, with one hand he pries apart the cheeks to see that the tattoo indeed continues into the hidden recesses within. "Name?" The boy turns his head the defining the long muscle in his neck and opening his throat to the man behind him. "Olio, Pater." He breathes, a slight sheen of sweat collecting on the skin in the nape of his throat. Lorenzo cups the boys ass cheeks as Olio leans back into the embrace of the older man. Without waiting Lorenzo leaves the Polynesian beauty as he stalks to the Arabic boy, the last in line. The boy stands stock still. His fists still clenched. The breath puffing out of his nose tells of his discomfort, only his face remains passive his eyes staring ahead. Lorenzo moves his hand and cups the boys arse all the while gazing into his wide open eyes. There is no response from the young god before him. The tension in the boys frame draws Lorenzo in and he gently places his hands on each gluteal muscle and then begins to draw them apart. The boys nostrils flare though his eyes remain locked in the distance. "Name?" Lorenzo drawls. The boy hesitates, his eyes snap to the older man before he replies in a defiant whisper. "Darius, Pater." "Face your father Darius." Lorenzo drawls, and stiffly the boy complies. To the side of the hall an older Sheik stands impassively as his son turns to him with pleading eyes. Lorenzo places his hand on Darius's back and with consistent pressure pushes him forward until the boy is forced to brace himself on his knees. He complies but his burning eyes are locked onto his statuesque father. Lorenzo steps back and looks at the small puckered anus that has come into view as the boy is bent in half and remarks, "I think you and yours may need a lesson in humility Darius. Perhaps I will allow myself the pleasure of teaching you." He chuckles to himself and then steps back. Which one to choose he muses to himself. Which nation shall benefit from the beneficence of the Medici this year? \\ Here ends the first instalment of the indifferent. I hope you like it and I would love to hear your feed back as I continue to write this story. Please send your feedback to Embolisha@protonmail.com.