Date: Mon, 27 Oct 2008 02:24:27 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Instrument, Part 19

THE INSTRUMENT

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part Nineteen


Jamie and I stood there, utterly naked.  I could see the Sheikh's eyes
raking backwards and forwards between us, making a comparison of our
physiques.  The room was almost eerily still and quiet, with both Marc and
the nephew watching, probably wondering what was going to happen next.

"Turn around and bend over, boy".  The Sheikh's voce cut through the
silence like a knife.  Jamie look confused, but I made gestures to him so
that he turned and faced away from the old man, then bent from the waist,
allowing his finger tips to scrape the floor - being so fit without even a
thin layer of fat on his belly, this was easy for him.

"No, no!  I want to see more, you stupid slave.  Don't they teach you
anything these days?  When your owner commands you to bend over, he wants
to inspect your most secret place!  Spread your legs, and reach back and
pull your buttocks apart!"  The Sheikh sounded as if he was becoming a
little petulant as he said this, and as Jamie turned towards me looking for
some sort of guidance, I gestured to him frantically to tell him to obey: I
feared any delay would totally unreasonably provoke the old man.

Jamie shook his head at me, as if he suddenly realised that there was some
sort of difference between stripping off your clothes to display your body
generally, and having to expose your asshole in that way.  I redoubled my
efforts to signal to him that he must obey, and slowly, very slowly, we all
watched as Jamie's long fingers pulled his cheeks apart.  The Sheikh leaned
forward as if to better appreciate Jamie's hole, then he moved back to sit
upright once more.

"Excellent!  It even looks tight and welcoming.  And even in this, I think
I can see similarities with you, Steve."

I could see beads of sweat breaking out all along Jamie's stretched back as
he stood there (he has one of those backbones that I always find very
attractive, with the "spines" of the vertebrae very pronounced), and I
could feel myself begin to colour up, too.

"So...", the Sheikh continued, "It is time for the formal introduction of
the slave to my service.  Stand up, boy".

Jamie did as he had been commanded, and I could see him looking at me
questioningly.  "Normally I do this part of the business myself", the
Sheikh went on, "And over the years it has caused me much pleasure...  Very
much pleasure.  But I am not getting any younger, and enticing though this
young slave's ass is, I fear that the exertion, to say nothing of the
excitement, will be too much for me...."

"I will willingly do this for you, uncle....", the nephew began, but the
Sheikh silenced him with a gesture.

"No.  You are still not yet fully back in favour, and you do not deserve
first use of such a treasure as this."

I saw Marc beginning to smile, and uncoil his body a little.  The Sheikh
sensed this, and he casually slapped Marc hard, as an owner tends to do to
a younger slave.  "Stay still!  You cannot do this - a boy's introduction
to sex should be with a real man, a mature man, with a real man's cock.
Steve shall do it."

"Sir, no!.  I almost screamed it out. Whether from anger or horror, I don't
really know.  "Sir, please, no, not this.... He is my son, sire...."

"And who better to induct a boy into full manhood, than his father?  Yes,
Steve, you will do as I command."

"Sire, no, please.... Please don't make me do this.....  It is not right
for a man to have sex with his son...."

The Sheikh almost shouted with anger.  "Am I beset with disobedience
everywhere?  I thought you had learned a lesson, Steve, and now that I have
restored you to being my Instrument, I expect total compliance with my
needs and desires.  Let me remind you that one of the roles of my
Instrument is to use his body in my service, and you were not formerly
unwilling to take part in little ceremonies like this."

"But sire, he's my son...."

"Silence!  How dare you interrupt me!  He may indeed be your son in as much
as it was your seed that was planted and caused him to grow, but that is of
no consequence.  You are a slave, he is a slave, and between slaves there
is no such thing as family ties!  Both of you should be wholly focussed on
your owner, to the exclusion of everything else.  And if I command one of
my slaves to fuck another, I expect to be obeyed, irrespective of whether
by mere biology they are father and son, or brother and sister, or son and
mother....  They are slaves, and slaves obey their owner, above all else.
You will obey, Steve, or I will once more send you back to the stables,
this time never to return.  And as an additional punishment, and to show
you that you must have no concerns of family, and be totally focussed on
me, I will have the boy castrated: Marc here performs for me perfectly
satisfactorily, and it might provide a little sport this evening, once you
 have been hauled away, to listen to the screams as this boy's testicles
are removed, too...."

I stood there, my mind reeling with what I had heard.  It was bad enough
earlier, when I had know that Jamie would be fucked.  But to have to do it,
to have to fuck my own son, especially for the first time, it was
unimaginable, horrific.  I wanted to scream "NO", to tell the old pervert
that there was no way I was going to push my dick up Jamie's virgin ass.
But something held me back - some small part of my brain was pursuing
rational thoughts.  How would this stop it?  Jamie was going to be fucked
anyway, whether it was by me or by one of the other slaves who would be
ordered to do it: perhaps the Sheikh might even send for one of the drays,
with his huge nigga dick, and then there was a real risk that a nigga's
unrestrained lust for a young white guy could cause damage to Jamie's ass.
And if I was no longer his Instrument, but a pony again, there'd be no way
I could perhaps help Jamie in future, to try to make life easier for
him.... Who knows...
 the Sheikh could, after all, simply sell Jamie, and then I'd never see him
again.  At least if I was the Instrument, I could perhaps stop such a thing
happening....  And I didn't doubt that Jamie would lose his balls, either -
the Sheikh was certainly capable of ordering that, as we had seen with Marc
(and even though he'd only taken one of Marc's balls, I didn't want that
for Jamie: I couldn't bear the thought of him thinking of himself as only
half a man for the rest of his life).

The more I thought about it, the more I knew what I had to do.

As it does on occasions like this, time seemed to stand still.  It can only
have been a second or so as my brain searched through all the possibilities
in the situation, but it somehow felt like hours.  And as I stood there, my
body reacted, too: I felt sweat break out all over me, as my heart began to
race and my blood pressure soared.  I could sense my legs beginning to
tremble with tension, and unlike so many other occasions when I had been
commanded to fuck a new slave, there was no sign of my dick beginning to
erect.

The Sheikh was becoming impatient, though.  "Move, slave!", he almost
screamed at me.  "If you dare to disobey me, you are not worthy to be my
Instrument....."

I realised I had no choice.  I put a hand firmly on Jamie's shoulder and
turned him to face me His skin was hot and slippery with sweat, as was my
own palm as I gripped him lightly.  I stared directly into his eyes as I
said in a voice which I hoped was so low that no-one else could hear "I've
got to do it, Jamie, or there will be dire consequences for both of us."

"No, dad... NO!  You can't......"  Jamie tried to pull away from me as he
said this, so I had to tighten my grip on him.

I felt tears welling up behind my eyes, but I had to be strong.  I had to
do the right thing, even if Jamie could not currently see it was best for
both of us.  I had to be tough, I could not appear to be weak.  To firm up
my own resolve I snapped "Shut the fuck up, Jamie!  Just do as I tell you,
for once, and it will soon be over...."

"No....."

Still gripping his shoulder firmly, I half spun him around and slapped his
butt hard - very hard - several times with my other hand.  "Shut the fuck
up!", I was shouting as I did so.  "Shut the fuck up, and do as you're told
for once!"

The sounds of the slaps on his bare skin ricocheted around the room, and
the Sheikh, his nephew and Marc all seemed almost mesmerised by it.  Jamie
looked totally shocked, horrified, almost, that I could be doing this to
him, but I had to find some way of emphasising to him just how serious the
position was - I could not afford to let him continue to be seen to be
disobeying (and I feared that my own resolve to go through with this might
falter too, actually).

As so often happens, the punishment of his butt had an effect on Jamie - as
he wriggled and squirmed in my grasp, his dick, instead of flailing around
loosely, began to stiffen. I think he recognised this difference in the way
his body was moving, as he stopped making such violent movements, and for a
few instants we stood there facing each other, both breathing very hard.

"Highness", I began, "I do not want to injure this slave.... I am concerned
that as he is a virgin and unused to taking another man deep into him,
there might be some tearing....  He is a valuable possession of yours, and
I do not want to damage him...."

"You're only saying that as he is your son!", the nephew interrupted.
"Uncle, this slave, this Instrument that you value so highly, is trying to
disobey you....."

The Sheikh raised his hand for silence.  "No, nephew.  Steve is right.  He
is, as we can all see, very well endowed indeed.  And the young slave is
somewhat slighter.  Steve is concerned for my property - I do remember that
he did accidentally damage a slave once..... And we do not want that to
happen, as I am considering the use of the boy myself.".  He stopped for a
moment, looked directly at me, and continued "You may lubricate him, Steve.
It will be interesting to see an uncircumcised member in action -
especially on one so young, who is likely to have a 'hair trigger'......
Let him be milked, so that we can see him cum."

As he said this, the Sheikh nodded at Marc, who slid up from where he had
been sitting at the old man's feet, and came towards us.  He knelt down in
front of Jamie and reached out for his dick, but Jamie reacted violently,
kicking out at Marc and shouting "Leave me alone, you fucking
pervert......"

Well, I couldn't allow that, could I?  I was so worried that at any moment
the Sheikh would lose his temper and order some dreadful punishment for
Jamie.  So I let go of his shoulder, and before he could reach and escape,
stood behind him and wrapped my arms around his chest , shoulders and neck,
holding him in a half-Nelson.  I squeezed hard, and that had the effect of
making him shut up as I forced his head down a bit.  I pushed my head right
next to his and whispered "Stay still!  He's only going to jerk you off,
and it's for our own good."

I felt Jamie's body tense all over, as if to ready himself for a desperate
effort to break away from me, so I squeezed harder.  His hot, sweaty body
was pressed against mine of course, and I couldn't help it - as Jamie's
sweat-slicked butt rubbed over my dick, I felt myself begin to go hard.

As I held Jamie tightly like that, Marc was able to kneel now in front of
Jamie and take his dick into his hands.  Marc began to jerk Jamie's dick
quite hard, and I felt Jamie's body continue to tense as his cock stiffened
and began to respond - obviously totally involuntarily, but respond never
the less - to Marc's touch.  I could see from the appreciative way that the
Sheikh and his nephew were watching that they were enjoying this spectacle
of Jamie being "milked". And although I could not see it directly, I could
tell from the movement of Jamie's body against mine, and the touch of
Marc's hand occasionally as it slipped and touched my own skin, that Marc
must have used his other hand to start caressing Jamie's balls, and even to
tickle at his ass.

It didn't take long, of course!  I expect we can all remember what it was
like to be sixteen and to be jerking off.  I could feel Jamie's breathing
as our bodies were so intimately close, and it began to get ragged as he
took deep, gasping breaths, and then almost stop, as he suddenly cried out
"Oh Jesus Christ..... Oh fuck......", and then he was still.  Marc
evidently didn't stop his activity, though, as Jamie began to whimper: I
could really sympathise, as once I've shot my load my dick is incredibly
sensitive, and I guess Jamie takes after me.  But I knew Marc had to
continue - his owner the Sheikh had ordered him to milk Jamie, and he would
not dare stop until he was sure the last drops of cum had been teased out.
But finally it was over, and I watched, Jamie's body still held firmly
against mine, as Marc glided to his feet, then went to kneel in front of
the Sheikh holding his hands cupped together, his arms stretching up and
out.  It was as
 if he was one of those boys you see in ancient Greek art holding a
libation up to the gods, in the hope it pleased them.

The Sheikh peered down into Marc's hands and murmured "Very satisfactory!
", and, in a louder voice, to me, "I think there's stud potential in the
slave, Steve.  It must please you to think that you could become a
grandfather, your progeny stretching forward through the generations...."

Well it didn't please me, actually.  Of course I wanted Jamie to breed, so
he could have a son.  But not in one of the Sheikh's breeding barns where
the studs were put to the breeding bitches: any sons he did father would of
course be the property of the Sheikh, and would never know any life other
than that of a slave.  And I knew that the bred slaves on the demesne had a
terrible life - it was of course not the policy to teach them to read or
anything like that, and they were kept totally isolated from the wider
world so that they only ever knew life as a mere animal in one totally
confined area.

The Sheikh was ready now, though, and snapped "Right, Steve, down to
business.... "

I looked around and saw the ceremonial fucking horse had been left in the
corner behind where the Sheikh was sitting - I'd used it many times, and
knew that it always caused the Sheikh particular pleasure to see a young
slave fastened to it awaiting my dick.  He had often remarked to me that he
felt it gave a pleasing sense of continuity: "Just think, Steve, here we
are in this room of the palace, with a slave on that family heirloom, just
as my father, my grandfather, my great grandfather would have been, all
waiting for our Instruments to proceed with the induction of another slave
into the glorious experience of sex.  It's good to know, isn't it, that in
this changing world some things are consistent and immutable, that our
traditions here provide a link through the generations?  Owner, slave,
Instrument, and good healthy sex: what more is there to wish for in life?"
Well of course I'd often thought that it was OK for the Sheikh to feel that
way,
 but I wasn't sure that the slave felt any happier knowing that he was
being a small part of history.... But I never said so.  And now, of course,
it was time for my own son to be secured onto the horse, his sweating body
sliding on the black leather padded top as I would pull his arms down so
his wrists could be manacled to the front legs.

"Lubricate him!" The Sheikh now commanded Marc, and he came back towards
us.  I turned Jamie around in my arms and sort of wrapped my legs around
his to force his apart.  His solid dick and my equally hard member were
pressed upwards, sandwiched between our bellies.  Jamie buried hi s face in
my shoulder as I held him there, whilst Marc knelt once more and began to
explore Jamie's hole with his cum-slimed fingers.  Jamie whimpered once or
twice as Marc slipped first one, then two, then three fingers up inside
him, but, after all, once the thing has been started it's not wholly
unpleasant to have a guy massaging you like that, is it?  I muttered little
bits of encouragement to Jamie as we clung together, telling him that what
Marc was doing to him was for his own good, and I think he became somewhat
calmer.  But then Marc stood up, and nodded to me as if to say "he's
ready".  I knew I couldn't prolong it any longer, and I had to get started.

I gripped Jamie's shoulder once more to maintain my control over him, and
eased our bodies apart.  We stood there looking at each other, our dicks
both absolutely rigid, and seeing this, Marc slid to his knees again and
began to stroke my dick with the remains of Jamie's cum.  It almost made me
shoot there and then, as you probably all know how it feels when another
man's hand strokes you like that - especially when there's that totally
sensual smell of sweat and cum n the air.  I almost moaned as Marc worked
on me, and I could see an almost mischievous smile on his face, as if he
was trying to make me shoot.  So I kicked out at him to make him stop, and
went to push Jamie over towards the horse.

Somehow I hated the idea of having to fasten Jamie to the horse - I'd done
it countless times before with other slaves, as you know, but I think that
a man deserves better than that for his first experience of sex - he
doesn't deserve to be on his belly, hands immobile, unable to see the man
who is taking his virginity.  So I stopped in front of the Sheikh and his
nephew, put my hands under Jamie's armpits, and raised him off the ground.
"Wrap your legs around my waist, son", I told him - trying to make it sound
like a command so that I would retain control, whilst wanting somehow to
tell Jamie that I was doing the best I could for him.

Jamie hesitated as I held him there, his feet off the ground, and the sweat
in his pits soaking my hands.  "Come on, son..... Wrap those legs around
me", I told him again.  And Jamie did.  I felt his hot, slippery legs
around me and he shuffled at it to get comfortable, then I felt his muscles
contract as he wrapped his arms around me too, and squeezed me tight.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I lowered Jamie down towards my erect cock.  I'd
done this once with another slave when I was a much younger guy and then it
was easy as my dick had been so erect that it was almost parallel to my
belly and I'd been able to lower her (yes, it was a woman then - it was
when I was young, as I said!).  Now though my dick, although so erect that
it was almost painful, never went much above the horizontal.  I didn't want
to let Jamie go, so I called softly to Marc, and he came over, knelt once
more, took hold of my dick and pointed it upwards.

Jamie's sphincter felt so hot and moist as it made contact with my dick
head, and I almost shot there and then as it touched the tip of my dick -
it almost made me squirm, as it was so sensual.  But I knew what had to be
done, and continued to lower Jamie gently down on to me, in spite of his
beginning to make little whimpering noises and saying "No, No....."

His whole body tensed and his arms (which he'd thrown around my neck) and
legs gripped me almost as if in a spasm as my dick head broke through into
him. But I didn't stop, and carried on lowering him until the whole of my
cock was buried in him.  "It's OK, son", I whispered in to his ear - his
face was pressed into my shoulder, so we could have this little intimacy
without the others hearing.  "It's OK.... The worst is over.  Now..... Come
on, help me.... ride up and down.... "

II felt all the muscles in my arms straining as I started to lift Jamie up
off my dick - although I'm very strong, as you know, Jamie had put on a lot
of muscle in his training and he was actually quite heavy, and it was a
real relief to be able to lower him again a few moments later.  After five
or six iterations like this, though, something happened, and Jamie began to
help, pulling himself up with his arms, and seeming to start to enjoy the
sensation of riding my dick.

It was fantastic as far as I was concerned - not only was my dick sending
those messages of ecstasy through me, but I had Jamie's sweat-slicked body
sliding over mine, and I had my son's arms around my neck hugging me
tightly, and his legs encircling my waist.  His hot breath was all over my
face, and I could see him see him so close, in that totally special
intimacy you only get in those circumstances. I began to wish it would go
on for ever.  But then I saw that Jamie had not shared my excitement and
joy: far from it!  As he clung to me, his chest heaving, I saw tears
streaking down his face.

As I was wondering what to do, the Sheikh's voice rang out.  "Excellent,
Steve!  It shows I was right to reinstate you as my Instrument.  That was
superb.  But put the boy down now, and bring him over here so that I can
enjoy his body - after sex, there's always something special about a man's
flesh, I think."

I could hardly disobey, could I?  So I lowered Jamie to the ground, holding
on to him and kind of helping him to stand.  I whispered to him to stand
tall, and to keep calm whatever happened, then clasped the back of his neck
with my hand to kind of control and "steady" him, and steered him over to
where the old man sat with a look of eager expectancy on his face.

The Sheikh reached out and his gnarled fingers brushed lightly down Jamie's
sweat-sleeked hairless chest.  I felt a shudder run through my son, and I
squeezed his neck to signal to him that he was not to do anything foolish.
I thought he might cry out in anger when the Sheikh's hand curled around
his dick, but apart from a further shudder and the very smallest of quiet
cries as the Sheikh's other hand cupped his balls, he did not lose his
cool.  Mercifully, though, that was all the sheikh wanted, as I heard him
say "Excellent, Steve!  Your son is a delightful to the eye as you are.
Come to me tomorrow morning and we will debate what role he is to have in
my household - such male perfection needs to be displayed, and enjoyed.
Perhaps I will use him in my private baths, or perhaps he should adorn my
audience chamber with only a wisp of silk partially concealing his genitals
so that my visitors are distracted....."

Again I felt a shudder go through Jamie as he heard the old man's words,
and I continued to grasp his neck in the hope that my control over him
would hold.  But fortunately the whole thing semeed now to be over, as the
Sheikh clapped his hands for two of the household slaves to come and assist
him to his feet.  Putting his weight on Marc's shoulders, he murmured "I am
fatigued after so much excitement - come, to bed!", and the pair of them
went out.

I let go of Jamie, and to my surprise, he simply ran out of the room, not
even bothering to grab his clothes.  I assumed he'd gone back to our room,
and so I stayed on for a few minutes to supervise the household slaves as
they tidied things generally (and made sure that they did not steal any of
the fruit or sweetmeats that could be used on the following day), before
pulling on m shorts and making my way through into the slaves' quarters.

Jamie wasn't there, though, and I at once panicked.  I realised he must
have been even more upset by the night's happenings than I had imagined,
and I began to fear that he might have done something utterly stupid, like
trying to run away.  But then I remembered that he'd fled totally naked,
and so that was unlikely.  I was worried, though, and strode back into the
palace proper, questioning the slaves for information.

Some of them had seen him running out of the building towards the stables,
so I hastened over there.  It was unusually quiet in the stables - the
faint sounds of laughter, the cries of passion, the noise of men making
love, were all absent and I wondered what was keeping the drays and other
ponies so quiet - then I heard a faint sobbing, and realised that every
other ear in the place must also be listening to this unusual noise in that
place (all slaves used as ponies were of course strong, grown men who might
curse about the pain they were suffering from a whipping or whatever, but
would not let their fellows hear them cry).

I strode down the central space, and there, in Jason's stall, was Jamie.
Jason was sprawled full length on the straw in his stall, one ankle chained
to the floor as is traditional, as I have explained to you earlier, and
Jamie was lying sort of half on top of him, his arms around Jason's neck.
Jason had one arm wrapped around Jamie's waist and with the other he was
gently stroking his back, as if comforting him.  I was outraged - I know
Jamie had been through a terrible ordeal, but I was his father : he ought
to have come to me for comfort, not to Jason!

"Get on your feet, you fucking animal!", I screamed at Jason, simply losing
my temper (although in mitigation I would say that the whole evening had
been a terrible strain for me, too, as I was so worried that Jamie might
have done something stupid).  "Get to your feet when a master approaches.
And let go of my son."

Jason just lay there.  Then in his usual lazy way drawled "I get to my feet
for a master, Steve, in case I get a thrashing for disobedience.  But
you're a slave too, remember?  That's why Jamie here is a slave, and why he
had to go trough that humiliation this evening....  He's been telling me
how you fucked him!  How could you, Steve?  He's your son, for Christ's
sake!"

"Let him go, Jason!  And get to your feet.  I may not be a free man any
longer, but I can still order a beating for you....."

"You bastard, Steve!  First you fuck Jamie, and now you're threatening
me.... If I wasn't chained here, I'd take you out and give you what you
deserve...."

As he screamed this out at me Jason loosened Jamie's hold on him and leapt
to his feet, lunging forwards, only to be jerked to a halt by his tethering
chain.  He flailed his arms in the air, uselessly of course, and shouted
"If you were a man, Steve, a real man, you wouldn't fuck boys like Jamie,
whether he was your son or not....  Only a pervert wants to fuck a boy like
Jamie...."

It was so unfair!  As you know, I'd only been doing my job as Instrument,
and had done all I could to make it as easy for Jamie as possible, and all
the time had been terribly, terribly worried that he'd do something stupid
and suffer a terrible punishment.  Sure, I'd fucked him - but what was the
alternative?  And now Jason was shouting at me, accusing me, and I could
see from the way that Jamie was looking at him that he admired Jason for
saying what he had.

My temper got the better of me, and glancing around I saw a bull whip on
one of the supporting pillars holding up the roof of the stables.  Without
thinking I grabbed at it, and in one smooth movement lashed out, sending
the end whistling through the air to slash into Jason's body.  His stream
of invective was cut short as the lash hit him, to be replaced by a scream.
And then silence, as almost in disbelief he ran his hand across his chest
and thigh where a bright line of blood had appeared from the whip's stroke.

"You bastard!", he screamed after the shock had worn off.  "You bastard,
Steve!  You can't fight me like a man, so you use the whip whilst I'm
chained here...."

"....and I'll use it again, if you don't shut up!  Listen, for once.
Listen and use your brain!  Think!  Do you really believe I wanted to fuck
Jamie?  Of course I didn't!  But I had to, Jason - I'm the Instrument...."

"....oh yes, and of course you had to fuck your son....."

"....or else someone else would have, Jason!  Think about it: Jamie's a
slave.  He's sixteen, so he's a man.  And all male slaves are fucked by the
Sheikh - or by his Instrument, usually.  And if I'd refused to do it, it
wouldn't have made any difference at all - one of the guards, or perhaps
one of the drays, would have done it.  And I'd no longer be Instrument
again, and then I couldn't have looked out for Jamie...... If I was put
back in the stables again, working as a pony again, I'd have been as
useless as you - there's no way I could protect Jamie, make life as easy as
possible for him...."

Jason was still shouting, though.  "You still shouldn't have done it...."

"...and what would you have done, Jason?  If you're so smart, if you'd been
me, what exactly would you have done?"

"I wouldn't have fucked my son...."

"...and how would that have helped, exactly?  Get real, Jason!  We're all
slaves, and we have to learn to adapt, to make things as easy as possible
for ourselves."

Jason stood there, his fists clenching an unclenching and his brow furrowed
as he tried to grasp this simple concept.  But at least he was silent, so I
said "Jamie, come here.  We need to go to bed - I've got to plan what I can
say to our owner tomorrow about your future."

"I want to stay here with Jason!"

"It's not what you want that matters, Jamie!  You may be sixteen, and a man
as far as these things go around here.  But you're still my son.  And if I
tell you to come, you come!"

"So you can fuck me again, dad?  Is that why you want me in your bed?"

"Don't you listen, you idiot!  Didn't you here me try to explain to Jason
why I had to do it?  I know he's not the sharpest needle in the pack, but
he does seem to have understood.  I'd have thought you'd have, too!"

As if in response, Jamie went and stood beside Jason and reached up and put
his arm around Jason's shoulder.  My son, my lovely son, was siding with
that oaf, that piece of man flesh who was only fit to pull a carriage,
against me!  As I watched, Jamie stroked his had gently across Jason's
chest, his fingers reddening from the blood.  "Don't worry, Jason", he said
quietly.  "Once my dad's gone, I'll get some water and clean this wound."

I gave a despairing sigh, and turned and strode out.  But my whole body was
shaking with the tension.  I knew that if I'd stayed I'd have done
something terrible - perhaps whipped Jason until Jamie obeyed me - and even
through the red mist of my temper I somehow knew that that would ultimately
do no good as it would further alienate my son from me.

End Of Part Nineteen