Master and the Mate
By: Deep Diver
(Copyright 2006 - 2007 by the Author)
David L

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...


Chapter 47
Reconstructed Galleons

Ryan was before his students getting ready to do another role-playing therapeutic session according to the tenets of Reality Therapy. Typically he would ask one student to act as the therapist and another to take the role of the client. Each student was to prepare for the class by learning the symptoms associated with a particular disorder which they would present to the student therapist who would then attempt to counsel their client according to the theory that was under consideration.

Today however, Ryan took a moment of the session to explain to his students the importance of any minority group making themselves heard and demanding their civil rights. He prefaced his remarks by insisting that violence should never be the means to such an end since it only engendered more of the same. He then explained that he was organizing a group to march in the Gay Pride Parade and that he was looking for people who could represent the normal everyday side of gay life to walk as a group.

One student raised his hand and Ryan acknowledged him with a nod.

"If we don't go, will it affect our grade?" The handsome guy who came to class with his girlfriend always by his side asked.

"I won't honor that question with a response." Ryan said, somewhat ticked off at its implication.

The same student raised his hand again; Ryan looked around desperately to see if anyone else had raised a hand, but was unable to avoid recognizing the same student.

"Professor, I apologize for my earlier question. I suppose the parade is only for gays and anybody that is seen in it would be taken to be gay?"

"Apology accepted. No, there are several groups that will be marching that are sympathetic with the Gay movement, but are not gay themselves. Mothers of Gays for instance. And yes, homophobia is alive and spreading like a virus. Just being seen with me in public will result in a lot of speculation about your sexuality. How about joining me for lunch?"

The whole group burst out laughing.

"You see! That is a small example of homophobia. If I had asked Miss McGinty, your girlfriend, the same thing, there would have been no reaction. When a gay man or woman comes out of the closet, they are watched so intensely, its almost like living under a magnifying glass and anyone that comes near is instantly suspect -- guilty by association. Gays are not rapists, although some rapists are gay. Gays are not pedophiles although some pedophiles happen also to be gay. Most gays are so normal that their lives are just as boring as the majority of yours..." Ryan paused: "OK, lets get to work, who's going to be the therapist today?"

* * *

On his way to his class, Kyle passed two guys walking in the street holding each others' hands. As he approached another two students standing by a bulletin board he heard them comment.

"Look at those two perverts, they have no shame."

Kyle stopped, looked at the guy who'd spoken and said, "Didn't I see you in a gay bar the other night?" Then he just stood there waiting for a reply. The youth turned red in the face.

"I don't see anything perverted with two guys holding hands in a loving way, but I sure as hell do see something very sick and perverted when others criticize them. Its the ugly head of homophobia showing itself!" Kyle said and continued on his way to his class and then decided that he would march in the parade proudly and next to Ryan, hand in hand.

* * *

At his own school, Mark finally got up the nerve to ask the red-headed girl if she wanted to eat lunch with him.

"Aren't you the son of those two fags?" She asked with a self-righteous attitude.

"No, my parents are loving homosexuals, not odious people like yourself and other self-righteous homophobes. My parents are so kind and accepting of human diversity that they would be ashamed of me if I talked down to someone as if they were trash as you just spoke to me." Mark said, as he walked away from the girl who had occupied so much of his fantasy time.

That evening the next of the Church ladies brought over the meal she had prepared for them. Mark answered the door and was shocked to see her daughter helping to carry in the meal. It was the same girl with whom he had the confrontation earlier in the day. He showed them through to the kitchen, and unlike his usual self, made himself scarce.

Kyle was surprised to find the pair in the kitchen alone when he came in. He explained to them that they were expected to join the family for dinner. The daughter almost wet her panties at the thought, but her mother had already spoken with the other members of the spiritual posse and was eager to see if what they had said was true, so she accepted on behalf of herself and her daughter.

When everyone gathered around the dining table for the meal, Mark's place remained empty. Both Ryan and Kyle looked at each other: it wasn't like Mark to miss a meal.

"Hi! I'm Emmanuel, but you can call me Manny." Said the little brother impishly as he recognized the red head as the girl in whom Mark had expressed so much interest.

Kyle called loudly to Mark, but there was no response. "Perhaps you all should begin while I go check on him to make sure he's OK." Kyle suggested.

Ryan introduced himself and the Church lady introduced herself as Mrs Featherstone and her daughter Wendy. Wendy was somewhat relieved that Mark had not come down to dinner and felt so embarrassed that she hoped she would not have to face him again.

"Manny will you please give the thanks?" Ryan suggested.

Manny delighted in the opportunity and made sure to include their guests as well as the poor and the homeless and asked a special blessing for his deceased mom.

* * *

Kyle rapped on Mark's door. "Anything wrong, Mark?" he asked.

"Naw, I'm just not hungry." Mark said, trying to avoid the situation.

"Well in that case, I think you should join us downstairs and at least sit with us. We have company and it would be rude to stay up here."

"Arrrgh, I'd really rather not." Mark protested.

"Is it because you feel bashful in front of that pretty girl?"

"Dad," Mark used the 'dad' word hoping to get Kyle's sympathy. "Can't I please just stay here."

"Mark, I have already explained to you that to do so would be rude. So please join us downstairs because our family has never been rude to anyone." Kyle said firmly and then went on ahead back down.

"Is Mark alright?" Ryan asked.

"Yes, he's fine. Here he comes right now."

Mark came down sheepishly and Ryan attempted to introduce him when the Church lady explained that they had already met.

Mark sat across from Wendy, whose hair seemed to be on fire, and shot daggers at her with his eyes.

As the meal progressed and more and more complements were exchanged everyone began to relax more and more except for the two adolescents who maintained their guarded positions. Ryan soon observed the strained dynamics and attempted to act as a mediator between the two.

"So you two are in the same class at school?"

"We are in the same year, but we only have one class together." Wendy answered.

"So you know one another already?" Kyle interjected.

"Too much so." Mark said under his breath.

"Mark, is this the young lady that you have been admiring and talking about for weeks?" Kyle said naîvely.

Wendy immediately looked up and into Mark's hurt facial expression.

"No that must be Maggie, she's the really beautiful one who has all the guys after her." Wendy said, helping Mark off the hook.

The two again stared into each other's eyes.

"Mark is going to be a priest!" Manny said.

"Oh how wonderful, Mark, that would be so special if a young handsome man like yourself from our parish chose to enter the priesthood." Mrs Featherstone said, now convinced that what the others had said was true: although homosexuals, Ryan and Kyle were decent men.

Wendy immediately saw Mark in a different light. Before she thought he was just a smug geek who thought himself better than everyone else. She had been fooled by his timidity.

"Any guy that would opt for a life of sacrifice and celibacy has got to be someone very special especially with all the pressure and the media spurning virginity." Wendy said, letting down her defenses and beginning to break through those that Mark had erected.

"Well, you can be sure that both our boys are special." Ryan affirmed.

"But I don't want to be a priest!" Manny protested. "I want to be an astronaut."

Everyone smiled at how Manny had interpreted the flow of thought and began encouraging him. Within minutes Wendy was asking all kinds of questions about why Mark wanted to live a life of service to God and their friendship was born as they ate dessert.

* * *

Ryan and Kyle were both eager to get to bed, but they lingered in the shower. They spent several minutes in a passionate dance of embraces and kisses before they each continued their hugging in bed as they heard the beat of the Indian drums which was the theme of the saga...

Howling Wolf entered the smoke house to find Swift Mountain Lion sitting in the Lotus position with his eyes closed. He seemed to be rapt in his inner thoughts. There was no way for Howling Wolf to read his facial expressions. If he had been able to do so he would have seen that Swift Mountain Lion was recalling caring for Howling Wolf during his bout of fever. He would have been able to read Swift Mountain Lion's longing to embrace him again, to slide his fingers over his taut skin and delight in the feel of his beautiful captive buck that held him under his spell.

But Howling Wolf had no way of knowing that these thoughts and feelings were traversing Swift Mountain Lion's mind and body. He only knew what he could see and that was that Swift Mountain Lion was in some sort of spiritual trance. So Howling Wolf just sat across from the fire and contemplated the semblance of the man he wanted to serve for the rest of his life.

Swift Mountain Lion had perceived that someone else had entered the lodge: there was nothing out of the ordinary in that. Other braves would come and go as they needed purification or time to think. Each would arrive, choose a hide to sit on and slowly drift into a trance-like state. No one that entered ever greeted anyone else, so as not to disturb their out-of-body journeys. This was a place of solitude, of searching inwardly or transporting oneself out of the concerns and cares of this world to drift into the spirit world. So Swift Mountain Lion, made no effort to come out of the deep trance-like state he had achieved. His mind registered that someone else had arrived just at it registered the sounds of nature that penetrated the thin bison-skin walls of the smoke lodge. One heard these noises, but one paid no attention to anything other than the journey inward and those things that could be discovered of one's self on the way.

[There is a picture missing at this point which can be seen if you read this story at] Swift Mountain Lion had found a deep emptiness within his heart. As he contemplated within his mind's eye the soaring of the Eagle Spirit he yearned to embrace his dead friend. He felt like he was being pulled back in time like a magnet pulling at iron dust. He had no resistance and mentally drifted towards those whom he had loved and that had taught him the meaning of love. As he recalled each of them they seemed so much alive and so present to him. He relived his mother's caresses and his father's affectionate tickling of him when he was only one hundred twenty moons old. He smiled and laughed as he reexperienced the joy. But then he remembered what he had done to Howling Wolf and his tears as he returned to camp alone that cold night. His tears flowed down his cheeks.

Howling Wolf observed his master and continued to try to discern what he was experiencing. He was encouraged one moment by the smile and his slight wiggle and wondered what joys he had discovered in his spiritual wandering. However, Howling Wolf did not notice the tears as they were both sweating profusely, the watery trails from the corners of his eyes were as invisible as a particular elephant hidden in a herd of pachyderms [the editor DEEPly regrets that my authorial friend found the dictionary I thought I had hidden]. Howling Wolf wanted to reach out and embrace Swift Mountain Lion, but he dared not disturb the spiritual quest that occupied his master. So he sat and watched and waited.

Ryan slid his hands over Kyle's naked torso. Kyle sucked on each of Ryan's fingers and both kept their eyes glued to the screen ... observing too very handsome Indian braves longing for each other and feeling closer to one another.

Swift Mountain Lion remembered lying on top of Howling Wolf's naked body and could feel himself becoming sexually excited. He imagined what it would be like to kiss his perfectly-shaped mouth. How many times did he study those sensual lips and fight off the strong desire to join his own to them, to bite them, to move his tongue over them, to taste him, to love him, to breathe him into his being. These last thoughts became so powerful and so real that Swift Mountain Lion could not contain his emotions and opened his eyes. Well he thought he had opened his eyes, but there sitting before him was the object of his desire. 'I must be still in the trance and only thinking I've opened my eyes', he thought as he continued to study the immobile face before his countenance. He blinked several times, amazed at how much detail he could recall, even down to the individual strands of Howling Wolf's hair. He closed his eyes again finding no relief from his strong desire to be one with this man who had saved him from the river. His mouth formed the words, "Howling Wolf, I love you, I love you, I pray to the Eagle Spirit that you will be here for real. Howling Wolf, I love..." Suddenly he felt lips touch his own. 'Could the mystical powers of that Dakota savage be so strong that he kisses me even on a dream voyage?' he thought. But the sensation was so life-like that Swift Mountain Lion could do nothing but take consolation in this ephemeral kiss which felt so real, so sensual, so life-like.

Ryan looked into Kyle's eyes and Kyle gazed into Ryan's and then they began a lip-lock which became their shared first step into a common journey down the road of passion rediscovered as the DVD replayed the theme of Indian drums to which their hearts beat in syncopation.

To be continued

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( ) Love the social-political symbolism of this chapter.

( ) I thought the social-political symbolism was over done.

( ) I enjoy the story within a story and how they reflect back on one another.

( ) I find the Indian story a distraction and usually skip it.

( ) I enjoy how this story branches out into some of your other stories.