TRAVELER
Chapter 264

by CARL DICKSON

Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home and someone to love them as they are.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm
.

A tidy quote from chapter 137
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson—2007

Does your mother know you're reading this shit?

Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.

If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.

A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2012. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.


You may download the CHEROKEE TONT for free at this link. Dowload it, install it, then enjoy seeing tfe TSAIAGI names in this story. This font is included in the full version Send an e-mail for it .
    A shot to the back of my head did no more than knock me to my knees. I was stunned and fighting to stay conscious. Seeing that nothing was working to kill me my hands were tied behind my back by the bikers, then a noose was placed around my neck. I was surprised at the density of the minds of my antagonizes, not one of them tried to remove the tight form fitting skull covering that was over my entire head; they didn't even remove the dark sunglasses from my face. The gang members could find no place to hang me, but one of the more ruthless ones showed a bit of initiative when he suggested that they go to their club house and have some fun with my sons and me for awhile.
    Shots rang out from the street outside, Myers emptied quickly as the bikers ran to the aid of their fellows in harms way. When we walked outside I saw an army of heavily armed and padded police from Tucson, South Tucson, the Pima County Sheriff, and Foss International Security agents exchanging fire with the biker gang. Someone called out that the gang had me as hostage and the gun fire stopped for an instant, but only from the good guy's side. The boys and I were thrown bodily into a van which quickly sped away. We rolled about on the floor until I told the boys to change into an insect of some sort so that we could roll with the motion of the vehicle without being harmed. I told them to wait to make a play until the entire gang was close at hand.
    "Daddy, can we kill them?" Roddy asked what I was thinking.
    "Don't worry, daddy, they need to die and I can do it without badly dreams and stuff." Yuri touched the heart of the matter, I wanted to acquiesce, but how could I?
    "Boys, please shield your minds. I'm really not comfortable with your brothers knowing what's going on here."
    "Sorry dad, it's too late," the angelic voice of Awinita spoke as clearly as though she were in the vehicle next to us. "I have shielded your thoughts from all the others except for my daddy and Kuckunniwi."
    "I am here daddy," Cullen James chimed in. "I'm flying over the van that you are in with daddy Cory at my side."
    "Awinita are you certain that you can shield my thoughts from all our other Tsalagi brothers?"
    "Of course dad, you know I can," I heard the smile in her voice.
    "Can I go too?" A very mature voice that I had never heard before spoke.
    "Daddy…" Awinita cried out like an older sister.
    "Steven Allen!!" Cory sounded angry at his seven month old son.
    There is more to Cory's family than meets the eye. He seldom discusses his new son so what I know about the boy is what Cory has let his thoughts betray to me. I try not to let that knowledge come to the front of my mind as I figure that my main man will tell me what he wants me to know in his own time.
    "All right then everybody listen to me very carefully. I want no bloodshed, period, understood? We are going to strike terror into the hearts of these people and let them hurt themselves." I filled the minds of the boys with images of the way I expect things to go, it seemed to amuse Roddy and Yuri. The three of us were fleas sitting face to face on the chest of my empty shirt on the floor of the van that was carrying us to who knew where; have you ever heard a flea giggle? it's cute. Everybody agreed with me because nobody wanted to take a human life especially the three young boys, Awinita is a bit militant in her thinking, which worries me.

    The van pulled to a stop. The boys and I quickly resumed our natural forms inside our clothes, our hands still tied behind our backs. The boys were manhandled from the truck and carried inside an old house where piles of aluminum cans, junk vehicles, and motorcycles were scattered about the yard.
    A bearded man the size of a Sherman tank grab my feet and pulled me from the van. He took hold of one end of the rope around my neck and yanked on it like the master pulling on the leash of a dog as he led me inside the house. The inside of the house smelled of stale smoke, cigarettes and various drugs; a high could easily be gained from the second hand marijuana smoke. A pungent odor of lingering vomit, urine, and decaying food was everywhere, as were kids. I mean there were a dozen kids, small kids, infants and toddlers, everywhere. Rug rats on the floor of that hovel…
    Those little ones had very little going for them and practically no chance of growing up to be decent members of society capable of earning an honest living. The foster home systems of our country are overcrowded, but the house I was in needed an immediate visit from Child Protective Services.

    There was a gathering on the ceiling of the front room of the house; Awinita had not been able to keep our plight from Wes or RD. I am not surprised that Wes picked up on what was happening, he is very, very gifted in many ways. He has a close working relationship with Mike and had contacted him. Quemela was with Sagi when Steven Allen began to cry after his daddy wouldn't let him join with us for the kill, she went directly to RD to tell him that I was in trouble.
    Cory laid down the law to Awinita and Kuckunniwi, they were at home with their mother's, but their little minds were very present as they looked over the unfolding scene at the battlefront. Crawling across the ceiling so that they could watch for my signal to strike were Cory, RD, Wes, and Mike. I didn't want them to take part, but at least they are of legal age and can make up their own minds. The other Tsalagi are legally minors and I am responsible for them. It was bad enough that my own two sons were physically present with me, but that was beyond my control.

    The house was filling with crude, foul talking-and smelling-men. Guns were put in my face as smoke surrounded my head. The bikers were working themselves into a frenzy of blood lust. I was bodily lifted by my arms that were still tied behind my back onto an upturned metal milk carton crate and the noose about my neck was secured to the heavy wooden beam that ran across the cathedral style ceiling of the, once upscale, house. All of the boys minds were keyed into mine as we waited for the optimum time to strike.
    The Sherman Tank was the apparent leader that was calling the shots. The man that shot Roddy was brought in still screaming that a wild cat had bit his cock off. The giant leader took a large knife from a scabbard on his belt and cut the man's belt which caused his pants to fall down. Everybody could see for themselves that the man was intact, the leader bitch slapped him and cursed him for bringing all of the current conflagration on the gang. He ordered a lieutenant to shoot the son-of-a-bitch then kicked out with his foot to knock the crate from beneath my feet.
    Instant pandemonium broke out as wolves appeared as if from nowhere, their teeth bared and flashing in the faces of the terrified bikers. Gun fire broke out from every corner of the room as bikers shot each other in sheer panic. No one noticed that my clothes were lying in a heap on the floor next to the empty clothes of Roddy and Yuri.
    When the dust settled twelve men lay with serious gunshot wounds. Everyone had serious animal bites as dead pitt bull dogs lay strewn across the area. Four men and two women were dead. Every biker in the room was speaking gibberish, all of the children were hysterical and the women were not in much better shape as they tried to compose themselves so that they could assist their kids. None of us had a scratch on us. Roddy and Yuri stood face to face and high fived each other before I could push them out of the door and to a waiting armored FI SUV that was standing by.
    I smiled as four magnificent Peregrine Hawks sat perched on the roof of the SUV. I was feeling hunger pains from my flying calvary, one of the drawbacks to taking the form of a bird is the ultra fast metabolism that requires constant feeding. It would not do to have our bunch killing rodents and small animals to eat their raw flesh so we had to get them away to safety without making them burn up any more energy by flying.
    As I waited for the boys to get inside the SUV I looked out over the crowd, I saw an old familiar face watching the biggest event to take place in the neighborhood in some time. I removed the mithril head covering and replace my sunglasses on my nose before I walked over to the man and greeted him. "Hello, Percy. I haven't seen you in quite sometime. Are you still with Simon?"
    The alarm that went off in the mind of the longtime lover of my nephew Cullen's old high school Latin teacher put me in search mode. Percy said something about him and Pike still be as solid as ever, but his mind was telling a different story of debaucher and serious child molestation. An image of a grossly underage boy filled his thoughts. I engaged him in small talk as I gathered more information and alerted the dispatcher for an urgent call to a judge, all via code of course.
    I asked Cory to fly inside the SUV and dress himself quickly. A fly tickled my nose before it darted inside to sit between my sons. In a few moments Cory stepped out of the vehicle wearing a pair of FI uniform pants, a pair of boots and a tee shirt with the FI logo over the left breast. He walked up beside me and I greeted him. "Cory, you remember the friend of your old high school teacher? Actually Mr. Pike was Cullen's Latin teacher, but I seem to remember that you had a class with him." Cory picked up the conversation with Percy and moved him away from me.
    By virtue of my position as a World Cop I am granted quite a bit of leeway; the dispatcher had an honest judge on the phone for me, I swore out an arrest warrant for the judge to sign. Almost instantly the official document arrived on the SUV's fax printer and a police officer was dispatched from the judge's office with the hard copy.
    I spotted a friendly police captain working the scene at the bikers' house and asked him for two uniformed officers to assist with the serving of an arrest warrant. Dispatch informed me that a high ranking CPS officer was in route to the bikers' house and had been informed to standby as I served the new warrant. I hoped that JC was the one on the way. Two other uniformed officers walked up behind Percy and stood in wait while Cory continued to engage the man in meaningless conversation. I was sort of busy, but I stole quick glimpses of them and tried not to distract myself with laughter.
    I sent one of the two officers that accompanied me to the back door of the house that I believed that Pike lived in while the other officer and I approached the front door. Simon Pike answered my knock on his door barefooted and wearing only a terry cloth bathrobe. I produced the arrest warrant and a search warrant that I had pulled as an afterthought. I left him in the custody of the uniformed officer as I moved quickly to the bedroom where I felt a boy in extreme pain.
    As I approached the door to the bedroom I heard a crash, a curse, whimpering, more cursing and the officer outside placing someone under arrest. I moved to the bundle on the bed and cradled a small boy of nine in my arms. He was scared to death. I talked quietly and showed him my badge and told Cory to let the paramedics into the room. I went back to the front room and saw the officer from the back of the house with a naked boy of fifteen or sixteen in handcuffs sitting on the floor and Pike on his knees facing the wall with his hands cuffed behind his back.
    I Mirandized Pike and had him taken away. I would not allow him to cover his head, I wanted the neighbors to see the pervert that lived next to them. Double standard, no. The bastard had been having sex with elementary school aged boys in that house. I can not tolerate anyone that forces himself on a child and any child under fourteen or fifteen is not capable of making an honest decision about sex.
    I Mirandized the older boy then sat down with him to see if he wanted to tell me his story. When I awakened I was staring into a very bright moving flashlight as Tip spoke in his soothing clinical voice, "Welcome back, Chris. Just follow the light for me there buddy. You have had a very nasty blow to the back of your head, it is a miracle that you are still with us. Can you tell me your name?"
    "Duh, I believe that you just called me Chris, is that my name? butt wipe."
    "Calm down, you may think like your boys, that you are some sort of superman or something, but I'm your doctor and I know better. Yuri told me that a gun was placed against the back of your head and fired. That bullet proof stuff that you wear might deflect a bullet, but not the impact. There is a small crack in your skull. But then that only confirms what we used to say in college, that you are cracked." He began to chuckle, I did too…for a split second then a splitting headache brought tears to my eyes and a queasiness to my stomach.
    "Lay still, Chris. You are hurt and you must lay completely still, don't try to raise your head or you can bleed into your brain. How you were able to walk about is nothing short of a miracle, it is beyond me." I tried to raise my arm, I was tied down.
    "Papa dispatch," I spoke aloud.
    "Your telephone stuff has been removed, Chris. You have to relax or I am going to induce a coma so that you will."
    I heard a moan and then the whimper of a very young voice nearby, I tried to turn my head, but the nurse had placed a head restraint across my forehead. "Don't worry, dad. It is the young boy that you were sitting with when you passed out," Wes's mental message was loud, he was in the room with me.
    I looked around the room, I was lying in a hospital bed near the window there was a bed next to me and I could see myself stretched out on it with wide leather straps around my wrists. There was some sort of foam rubber contraption on each side of my head which was secured by another wide leather strap. Dr. Tip was bending over me and I could see his butt, it is still firm and perky at his ancient age…WHAT THE FUCK!!! I am looking at myself from outside of my body. I looked down the bed and saw the skinny body of a teenage kid. I looked at my hands, they were long and slender with very smooth skin, my finger nails were chewed down to the quick.
    "I have only heard of this from WL%–Wilihama, but I think that part of your mind has been transferred into his." Wes's voice spoke, I wanted to know what could be done to correct it, he told me that we needed to get Caleb and me to Aqua Caliente as quickly as possible.
    I asked him how we could do that with me tied down. He told me that Cory was approaching the door with help in his pocket, he would await my instructions before entering. I sensed Cory's approach and felt a warm fuzzy pass through me. I asked him to come inside, he told me that he had an army with him. I saw an image of a matchbox filled with fleas in his pocket and tried very hard not to laugh.
    Suddenly Tip directed the nurses to clear the room then he sat down. He closed his eyes for a moment then when he reopened them freshly diapered Awinita and Kuckunniwi were sitting in his lap. I listened as the two infants soothed Tip into a deep sleep then the other fleas from the matchbox surrounded him and Caleb as they began to chant. Roddy held Caleb's hand as his body changed into a minuscule shape. Wes and Cory retrieved two new fleas and placed them in the matchbox. I was transformed by my Tsalagi brothers and tied to a tongue depressor before being placed inside of Cory's shirt pocket with Yuri and Wes at my side. Harry opened the door of the room so that Cory could leave with his pockets full. "Keep everyone out, we will return in about two hours," Cory told Harry.

    I could only see through Cory's eyes as he climbed into a FI SUV driven by Astin. I watched as Cory coordinated the motorcycle escort to move us across town at a very high rate of speed. Astin drove directly into the tunnel under the eastside of BAW and stopped on the platform next to the new highspeed train that runs through a tunnel to Camp Christopher. Fifteen minutes later all of the Tsalagi gathered about Cory as I was placed into the talons of his Hawk form. Caleb and Tip were still asleep as they were placed on the back of RD. In mere seconds we were airborne and on our way to the healing waters of the hot springs.
    I was not allowed to transform myself, that was done for me by my tribesmen. I was carefully laid on the rock bed in the hot water of the pool, I was still tied to the tongue depressor. I felt my body begin to float then a straw was placed at my lips so that I could drink deeply of Cory's tea. When I awakened Caleb was laying on me with his stiff cock boring into my navel. He opened his eyes and I greeted him. He tried to roll aside, but Steven and Mike held him steady then slowly moved him to lay beside me. I felt Kuckunniwi moving in my head, it felt as if he were physically placing my mind back into the cubby holes of my skull. I felt Caleb relax, I could no longer see through his eyes.
    When next I awakened Tip was sitting neck deep in the warm, swirling water as Cory told him what had been done. Caleb was talking with Roddy and Yuri with Kuckunniwi sitting on Roddy's shoulders. Awinita was playing in the warm water with her daddy, Cory. I still wanted to know Caleb's story so I asked him if he wanted to tell it. He did. Before the pool of hot water was completely cleaned of the oils and herbs that are used for the healing ceremony a large hawk flew overhead screeching loudly. It landed on the path between the pool and the cold water of the stream that runs along the other side, it transformed into a magnificent eight point stag. iR–Isi Kearns settled himself down and changed into his human form.
    He was obviously very excited as he danced about sing-songing, "I did it…I did it…I really, really did it." His excitement was contagious as the rest of us got caught up in the moment. We had no idea what he did, but we were excited for him. He stopped, faced us, and with a flourish he bowed low, "I am 1L, I have been accepted as a first year law student for the fall semester." That news renewed the excitement of all of the rest of us.
    From the day that Isi came to Tucson to live with his father he has been a top student, he had come over the night before to show me his finals scores, he had a four point two GPA and was the Salutatorian of the graduating class of 2011. I was proud of him.
    Sweat was rolling down Isi's sides and his face was covered in large droplets of the salty liquid that is nature's own system coolant. I told him to step into the waters of the hot springs, he had a better idea. The others boys worked with Dr. Tip and Caleb and transformed them into split tail swifts.
    I sensed a dread of fear in the boy. I relaxed his mind in preparation of our flight up the face of the mountain to a clear water lake that lies hidden in the dense forest at the seven thousand foot level. The twenty six surface acre lake lies entirely within the confines of the old Mayville ranch that has become Camp Christopher and is therefore posted, closed to all outsides, even the Game and Fish Department.
    Robin and Ita took the lead without thinking, Inagei was hot behind them. I sent a message to RD to change in mid-air into an eagle and to let his shadow fall across the reckless boys. The shadow worked, the boys flew back into the flock where they would be safer from an airborne predator. In only a few minutes we were circling above the crystal clear and icy cold water of the snow melt and spring fed lake. With a deep breath the boys spiraled up and then dove straight down from a height of about ten to fifteen feet. Moments before their impact with the water they transformed themselves into their natural naked boy form and split the water with ease.
    Caleb had never dived from anything higher than the side of the community swimming pool so he naturally showed a bit of trepidation. After his first dive from about two feet high he was hooked and wanted to go higher. Swifts, or swallows, have a difficult time gaining flight from the ground, wet is even worse for them, the boys' solution was to change into a hawk then fly upwards. The form of the split tail gets better control for short dives and is our favorite form to take when we frolic in the mountain waters.
    As I rose up to a height of sixty feet and began to spiral down to a safe diving height of thirty five feet I spotted some old friends. I averted my dive and flew directly to the Waya pack as they moved from the covering of the trees with their frisky pups running around them.
    Breeze was excited to see me, as his licks to my face told me. I rubbed behind his ears and asked him to transform into a human form. We had located a lone she wolf that was the sole survivor of a failed release to the wild program in southeast Arizona. I convinced game and fish to allow me to bring her to my mountain where I knew of a small pack of wild greys that she could run with. Ugitsiha worked closely with her as she learned to trust us as humans and the strange wolves that sometimes walk upright. She now was carrying three pups from her breeding with Breeze, he was a very proud papa.
    Awinita, Kuckunniwi, Roddy, and Yuri had changed into wolf pups and were playing on the grass with the pups of the Waya pack. The boys and I sat in communion with the rest of the pack as they told us of their winter. The four Waya that I had brought home from my trip to Oregon told how harsh the winters had been in those tall mountains of the northwest and how happy they were to bask in the warmth of Arizona's mountains where the game was plentiful and there was no fear of humans hunting them for a bounty.

    We returned to the hospital the way that we had arrived then my brothers left me to do my job with Caleb. Tip just stared at me as he left the room shaking his head. I was completely healed, of course, that defied everything that Tip knew of modern medicine. He had never discussed what he saw one afternoon at Cory's house when Dr. Will had the serious radiation burn healed by Wes and his cleansing herbs. Dr. Tip has never been one to let on about his personal feelings except where love is concerned. Cory and Wes had been busy at Aqua Caliente all afternoon, but I know that they had both planted mind messages into my old time school friend that I had known since our days in college.

    Another person had been receiving mind messages, only those were from me. Caleb had seen more than I was comfortable with him seeing. I had to allow him to be taken to the spring during my healing because in my pain from the gunshot caused concussion I had lost part of my mind and he found it, in his head. Wes tried to explain mind transference, but it seemed to far fetched to make sense. I guess that a lot of what I am discovering about my powers are far feltched. Caleb would find the things that he had witnessed very confusing so I had to help him to think that it was a wild dream.
    Quite reluctantly Dr. Tip signed my discharge papers that afternoon which allowed me to get back to the work at hand. I called for Caleb's parents to come to the hospital to sit in on the interview with their minor son. They were sickened by their son's actions and walked out of the interview after giving me written permission to do as I would with him. He broke the law and I had to obey that law. I took him before a judge and asked that he be released to me pending a full investigation, of course my motion was granted.

    Percy had told me about twelve year old Mike and several other youngsters from the nearby park and grade school. According to Percy, Mike was an eager bottom boy that came around at least twice a week to get his bowels cleaned out. Caleb had been the fifteen year old boy that had gone out of the window, he hated what Pike did to him and the other boys, but he felt that he had no choice other than to assist the old queen so that he would be left alone. He did not have sex with the other boys, but he stayed by to keep them calm as Pike opened new world's for them.
    I learned that the man that walked out of the first interview with Caleb was only his step-father and did not want the boy around in the first place. His mother met Pike at the park one afternoon and he talked her into taking money to pay her late mortgage payment in exchange for favors from her, then, ten year old son. The boy thinks that he might like to be gay, with a boy his own age, but he hates nasty old men. Too bad that his mother won't have any nasty old men pawing on her for the next fifteen years, but better old men than some of the bitches that I have run across in the women's prison system. They hate bad mothers.

    Do you remember
Horace Smithfield and what his uncle put him through? C.O. Smithfield discovered that his nephew was gay and farmed the boy out to two inmates in his Boot Camp yard at the state prison complex. Chico, and Blade were two tough young, but gay, inmates that were doing easy time for their first offense of drug use. When I visited the prison complex in early February I went in guise of an undercover consultant for the DOC. I used my newly discovered mental powers to look around to see what the warden had to face that was unknown to him. No one knew that I had acquired a sealed search warrant from the Federal Judiciary Department to investigate allegations of a sex for favors operation within the prison itself. I discovered an ant hill under the facade of a smooth running machine.
    I had asked four very young looking FI agents to pose as fish–first time inmates–so called because they flop around like fish out of water, not knowing what to do or whom to trust. Those agents were placed in general population. With very little help from some of my pen pals they came under the wings of the major gang leaders of the prison. I missed my guess about the white supremists on the yard, they did protect their fish inmate so he had to go to a guard that we knew to be involved in the scheme to gain access to the inner machine. The blacks and Hispanics quickly sent their new charges into the lion's den, there was big money to be made with the body of a smooth newbie, or youngster in yard speak.
    The only contact that we had with those four brave boys was their weekly telephone calls home to their mothers, female voiced operators deep within Base C in Arkansas took the calls and recorded everything that the men told them in code. I returned from my most recent rescue mission after the second weekend that the men were undercover. As I read the transcripts and listened to their recorded calls I grew alarmed and forced my hand to go in.
    I made my initial appearance at the gates of North Yard of the main prison complex on Monday the twenty third of May, 2011. I wanted to go directly to East Yard where the boot camp operations were, but I could find no justifiable reason to do so. North Yard sits directly across from the administration buildings of the prison complex and was an easy place to start. North Yard contains the milder offenders and trustees, it has the best opportunity for jobs in the prison's furniture manufacturing and vehicle maintenance for all of the fifty some odd yards in the surrounding area. There are jobs for state-wide drivers that travel around the state in trucks taking care of business for the State Department of Corrections–DOC. Some of those drivers were taking youngsters along with them to take care of their needs on the road.
    The road from the highway that leads between North Yard and the prison's administration buildings does not have a Sally Port to prevent multiple vehicles from rolling in. That is what happened, scattered along the highway in both directions were six vehicles fully loaded with armed Federal Agents that quickly fell in behind me as I pulled into the road to the complex. When I stopped agents quickly dismounted and circled on alert around two large helicopters as they landed. Prison guards responded at once and the warden rushed up to me livid at the invasion of his facility. I passed him five search warrants and asked for two of his top captains by name.
    I handed the captains arrest warrants and directed them to take the Federal Agents to those named and arrest them in full view of the other guards, inmates, visitors and whomever else may get a view of the activities. I took the warden aside and asked him for armed guards to accompany my agents into the yards of both North Yard and East Yard to arrest both guards and inmates that I had warrants for. I made sure to arrest all four of my undercover men and told my agents to treat them as the rest of the prisoners.
    By lunchtime the prison's second in command sat on the ground with two captains, five sergeants, and twelve guards. A total of fifty inmates had been identified and moved to secure locations to await formal charges. I wanted to be sure that every inmate that had been victimized in the sex for favors operation that had occurred in the prison complex at Florence was identified so that they could receive counseling. Next I had to move onto the other prison complexes located all around the state, I am sure that the incident that I had discovered from my work with Horace was not isolated to only the one complex.

    I returned home via state highway 83 that leads from Florence to Oro Valley and on into Tucson from the north. I was mulling over in my mind how best to approach the courts in behalf of the inmates that had been used as sex toys by the men in the prison system. Some of those young men are gay and they may have enjoyed their extra duties somewhat. However, it is never right to force someone, anyone for that matter, into doing anything against their will. Sexual bondage is on the rise in the world, or we are just becoming aware of it? Whatever the case it is more prevalent in the minds of most people than at anytime in recent history.
    I was deep in thought so I barely noticed a large group of motorcyclists approach me from the south. I came to when they were about an eighth of a mile in front of me and even more aware when they passed me and quickly slowed down. I watched in my rearview mirrors as the entire group turned about and roared up behind me. I alerted dispatch to stand by. I was told that the two helicopters with armed men onboard were still in my area, I asked for dispatch to keep them appraised of my situation.
    A large number of the bikers roared past me at a high rate of speed and pulled to each side of the road a quarter of a mile in front of me. Those riders dismounted their bikes and stood by them. The few bikers behind me pulled in front of me to block my path and slow me to a stop. I pulled my mithril hood over my head and prepared for more abuse.
    One man with the president's patch on the front of his vest dismounted his bike and walked back to my window, "Sir Chris Dickson? We salute you, sir." I was stunned, bikers just don't do that. I opened my door and stepped down from my ride as the man stepped back a pace or so and held out his hand to me. The deranged biker gang that I came in contact with the previous week was sick by any standards, even those of lawless biker gangs. The men that stood in front of me at that time are well known for their ruthlessness in dealing with their opposition, but they stayed mostly within the confines of public law. Sure, they used drugs and women, they stole from their rivals, and they had reportedly caused a few unnatural deaths, but they were still better than some.
    I was being honored by the bikers around me as an honorary member of their gang. I would not be allowed to wear their colors, but I was given a small lapel pin of their logo to wear. I will wear it, along with my other bling. It may seem odd but I considered that pin as being right up there with the emblems of knighthood that have been bestowed on me. The biker gang is international in its membership, but it is still not as large as any of the nations that have hung their jewelry on me. There was something in the faces of the men, and women, around me that spoke of their sincerity, that needed to be honored and respected.
    I learned that the, now defunct, former group had killed many members of the current biker gang. There was no proof, but circumstantial evidence pointed to them as the guilty ones. The group around me are level headed enough that they did not go off half cocked and start a shooting war that would have left dead on both sides.
    It is not known how I did it, but it had to be something about my uncanny way with people that had left the survivors of the final minutes in that house where they tried to hang me totally incapable of tying their own shoes without drooling on the floor. The medicos are baffled as to the cause of such mass insanity. Nothing they have done makes any difference to the victims so none of the facts are forth coming about what went on in that house.
    The only thing that can be ascertained is that they were attacked by wolves, a large pack of wolves, both great and small. The only animals found in the room were their own dead pitt bulls and the blood on those dogs was human. No evidence of any wolves or other animals was found or identified, not even a stray hair. I praise my boys for keeping their hair neatly in place. The investigators of the incident have written the event off as some sort of mass hysteria, probably brought on by the massive quantities of illicit drugs found in the systems of the living and the dead. Even the small children that were in the house have high levels of drugs in their little bodies and some of them are being treated for symptoms of withdrawal.

    A nod was given to one man standing before me with a blonde haired boy of fourteen or fifteen. He was a skinny kid with a few visible tattoos on his arms, one which said, "Bitch boy." He was holding a helmet in his hand as he looked at me with a very strange expression on his face. I felt his mind, he was undressing me as he desired my cock in his body, anywhere.
    The other bikers pulled back a few paces and began to talk amongst themselves as the man with the boy moved closer to me. "My name is Granite this is my son, Pebbles. Pebbles is a sissy boy and he is going to get hurt riding with this gang. I love him, he is queer and I don't understand that, but he is my blood. I learnt that you got that school for queer kids, can he go there? I will pay whatever it takes, just protect him and teach him how to get a good job so he won't end up getting kilt on the street." I gave Granite my business card and told him that he could come to see me later that day. He asked me to take Pebbles with me, I did. I had a chance to get to know the kid quite well as we drove directly home. I was not about to make the same mistake on that road as I had done with Horace, I did not stop for lunch.

So there you have it. Is your friction enhanced by my fiction?
Tell me about it at fisherman@iname.com
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