Date: Sun, 26 Oct 2008 10:20:20 -0500 From: George Gauthier Subject: Sean Sean Mer-Boy 3 by George Gauthier Author's Note: This is the third tale in the Mer-Boy series, each with a different protagonist, so it is an independent story. You do not have to read the other two first. It is a tale of a charming and submissive young man's exploration of his sexuality and of his induction into the career of a houri boy in an Arab country. It is set eight decades in the future where STDs are completely under control, nudity taboos are almost absent from social life, and medical advances have extended the human life span to several centuries. The USA is also fully on the metric system. It contains graphic descriptions of the male human body, of consensual sexual activity between adult males, the youngest of whom is seventeen years old, and features light bondage. The use of words or terms like 'boy', 'teen', 'youth', 'lad', etc, signify only the gender of the characters and does not mean they are underrage. If any of this would offend a reader, read no further. This is not intended for persons younger than an age where they may freely and legally select their reading matter in whatever jurisdiction applies. This is fiction, not reportage. None of the characters is intended to resemble any person living or dead. It is offered for entertainment. If it manages to both entertain and to provoke prurient interest, it will have succeeded in its aim. Writing this tale has been the most fun the author has had wearing clothes in a very long time. Well, since my last story. Readers who like these stories might want to try my 'Daphne Boy' historical tales or 'Naked Prey' series, both in the Gay/Historical section of the archive. I also recommend my spoof of Hollywood in the 'Jungle Boy' tales, posted in the Gay/Authoritarian section of the archive. Also, please try my futuristic 'Track and Field' stories in College. For links to my stories, look on the list of Prolific Authors on the Archive. Comments and feedback welcome. Chapter 1. The Cyclades The boat swung at anchor in a cove off one of the Cycladic Islands in the Aegean Sea north of Crete. Wavelets made a slapping sound on the hull of the excursion schooner, but it was the light at dawn that awoke the naked youth, only in his mid-teens by his slight stature, stretched out on deck. An early riser anyway and a light sleeper, Sean Doyle went to the bow to relieve himself, drank some juice and water, then started his stretching exercises. He was slender yet muscular, his smooth skin bronzed with the even tan of one often nude out of doors. Like many youths in the final decade of the twenty-first century he had used a one-time depilatory which left him permanently beardless and hairless all over. For the rest of his life he would never have to shave anywhere. He rather liked the way the lines of his trim body were clean and smooth, free of body hair. It made him feel that much more naked and sexy, especially they way the shaft of his manhood sprouted directly from his belly wall rather than from a wiry thicket. Sean knew his clean lines looked better for sports too where most competition was in the nude anyway. Everywhere these days boys competed naked in high school and collegiate sports like track and field and aquatics, reviving the traditions of the ancient Olympians. The only exception was for whatever winter sports survived after a century of global warming. Shaking his long blond locks, Sean dove into the sea and swam toward the island, actually a low rocky islet crowned by a stand of trees and shrubs that screened one side from the other. The Cyclades Islands were the tops of a submerged mountain range. Most of the 220 islands were unihabited. As their name implies the Cyclades form a circle around the sacred island of Delos. Sean did not set foot on shore right away. Instead he swam back and forth across the cove for the better part of an hour, relishing the feel of the warm waters touching him everywhere, exulting in the strength and power of his strokes, in his mastery of the watery element in which he felt so much at home. His friends back home in Florida didn't call him Mer-Boy for nothing. He was always in the water, whether at the shore, the lake, or the pool. In between swims, he stretched out on the strand or the lawn, reading and studying his lessons, for Sean was an intelligent lad, in the top percentile in fact. After he splashed his way ashore Sean took a walk around the island admiring the way the colors of land and sea and sky complemented each other. It felt primeval walking alone on a deserted island untouched by the hand of man. He tried to imaging how a Bronze Age man like Homer might have looked on the pristine scene, a rugged islet lost in a 'wine dark sea'. True, Sean was there, but a slender nude boy was hardly an intrusion of civilization. The excursion on the schooner was just one of many clothing-optional vacation cruises and resorts available these days. Sean did not feel the least bit self-conscious about public nudity whether on the schooner or at any beach resort in the Aegean or at home in Florida or on campus. A sexy pretty boy like him was always welcome to prance around naked at least among the tourist crowd. Old folks in isolated areas of the Greek Islands still thought public nudity was scandalous even if it had been invented in Ancient Greece. At least the oldsters could console themselves that even liberated females were, for the most part, too distrustful of predators to emulate their male counterparts, human nature being what it is. Despite their reservations, nudity taboos were disappearing everywhere, even in America, the last holdout for prudery in the developed countries. Different attitudes, generational change, reform legislation, and court decisions essentially removed the legal stigma to casual public nudity -- in proper context of course. You didn't walk into the post office or a restaurant starkers. Especially at the increasingly popular single gender colleges few students bothered with clothing in and around their college dorms, on the practice track or running trails or in the outdoor recreational areas like the swimming pool, soccer field, volley ball court, even for classes held outdoors, though for indoor classes they would slip on sarongs. These days sarongs were practically the student uniform on campus when boys bothered with clothing at all in the heat, what with global warming and all. Sean rather liked sarongs himself; they flattered his trim rump. If you couldn't go naked, the next best thing was a sarong. Still if he had his druthers, Sean preferred total nudity. As far as he was concerned, that should be the default condition when you were young and pretty. As Sean rounded the tip of the island, the vegetation hid his view of the schooner. Now he felt truly alone, like a castaway or a sailor stranded by pirates. On his second circuit of the island, the blond youth spotted a boat sailing close to shore, a real sailing vessel, a modern style dhow from the look of her. A friendly wave invited him on board so he swam out the short distance and got pulled up on deck. The crew of eight, all young Asians of uncertain ethnicity with olive skin, wore sarongs. "Yemen" he heard a voice behind him say. "The crew are Hadhramis from Yemen." Turning Sean saw a tall handsome man in his mid twenties, lighter skinned than the crew, and obviously the owner of this fine boat. Sean felt a sudden strong attraction to the dark haired man. "From your puzzled look, I could see that you were wondering where my crew comes from with their brown skins and Caucasian features: straight noses, lithe physiques, and straight hair." "Why, yes, I was. Yemen, that's at the southern end of the Red Sea, you said. What's a Hadhrami?" "An inhabitant of the Hadhramaut, the region of the Arabian Peninsula on the Gulf of Aden. Actually there is an admixture of Nilotic blood in the Hadhrami which accounts for their coloring. I myself am entirely Arab in my ancestry. And we Hadhrami are not bedouin for the most part but town dwellers, farmers and traders and sailors. My boat actually sailed from the port of Aden on the mainland though I live on the island of Socotra. I am called Sayid al Qu'ati, captain and owner. But enough of me, tell me about yourself. Much as I might fancy the conceit that you are a pretty mer-boy fished out of the sea, I suppose you are really from that schooner we spotted?" "Yes, I am" Sean admitted. "And you can say that I am a mer-boy too. At least that is what they call me back home in Florida from all the time I spend in the water. My real name is Francis Sean Aloysius Doyle, though everyone just calls me Sean." "As I shall then or maybe I will call you Mer-Boy. You are so smooth and sleek and naked, like a creature of the sea." "And in case you are wondering, sir, I'm not a kid. I was seventeen last month, so legally I'm an adult. I know I may not look it, especially naked and hairless like this." he said, his hands indicating his trim body. Only 165 centimeters (five feet five) and barely 51 kilos (112 pounds), little Sean was often taken for two or three years younger, especially when he was naked. Not that it was easy to overlook him. The boy had one of those faces that literally turned heads. Men and women did double takes and stared at him wondering how anyone could be that good looking. Like Rob Lowe for his generation. Barely past his seventeenth birthday, Sean was a comely lad, short for his age and slender. He had a fawn-like physique but with a wiry musculature, toned and taut from so much swimming and running. Sean was pretty as a girl with delicate -- almost elvin -- features, a straight nose, high cheekbones, and large green eyes with a blond thatch on top, now plastered to his head by his swim from the island. He had no hair anywhere on his body. >From his tiny red nipples to a deeply indented navel, to narrow hips framing a surprisingly ample manhood for one so slight in build, the boy was real beauty. He carried so little body fat that his flat belly showed a tracery of downward pointing veins just under the skin. The beat of his heart was visible on the left side of his smooth chest. He was sleek and smooth and deeply tanned, his wiry physique a vision of youthful male pulchritude. "And yes, I am from the schooner, though, truth to tell, I wish I weren't or at least didn't have to go back there. Boy friend trouble," he added by way of explanation. "Has a roving eye, does he?" Sean hesitated. This man was a stranger after all. On second thought, why not blow off some steam to some guy he would never see again. So he vented and told Sayid what the problem was. "Not exactly. I'm the one who plays around. He thinks that makes me a slut. What the hell. It's supposed to be an open relationship. Can I help it if a lot of guys like my looks? I can't turn them all down. Some of them are really hot. Randy can't see it that way. He calls it disloyalty. It's not like we're married or something." "Did he give you those bruises?" Sayid asked, referring to the purple and yellow finger marks on his upper arms. "Yes, he did, when he grabbed me hard. And no he doesn't beat me or anything like that. Oh maybe some spanking, but that is just foreplay. Anyway, we are really on the outs now. He's cut me off too." Sean replied. That was the hard part to talk about, that Randy thought he was just sponging off him, spending his money, taking advantage of his generosity. If Sean wasn't going to play the kept boy, why should Randy shell out for him. "So you are promiscuous then, Sean?" "What I am is a seventeen year old male with a healthy sex drive." the boy said with some asperity, hurt by the accusation that he had done something wrong by spreading his favors widely. "Yes I can see that. Here let's get a good look at you boy. Do you know what it means if I tell you to assume the position?" Nodding, Sean stepped to the middle of the deck and set his feet a little over shoulder width apart, arms high, fingers linked behind his head, elbows back, head level and looking straight ahead. A sexual submissive, Sean was used to being taken in charge by larger males and being put on display. So Sean didn't object to this but stood meekly, trembling from excitement and lust, wondering what would happen next. Sayid sat down on a hatch cover but he was so tall or rather Sean so small that he still over-topped the diminutive lad. That gave the ship captain total access to examine his delightful body. Sayid ran his hands over Sean familiarly and even intimately. It would have seemed churlish for Sean to object to this implicit compliment. After all he had just complained that Randy's objections to his promiscuity were unreasonable. Truth to tell it was not mere vanity on Sean's to recognize that he had a lovely form that inspired admiration and lust in the hearts of any male who appreciates a beautiful boy. Entirely nude as he was, small and smooth and hairless, it was only natural for the older man to take what might otherwise have been viewed as considerable liberties: feeling his muscles, stroking Sean's rump, slipping the blade of a hand into his cleavage, running his hands over the boy's ribs, tweaking his tiny red nipples, even fondling his manhood. "You like this don't you boy? You like a man's hands touching you, stroking you, stimulating you? You like the way my fingertips are tracing the downward pointing veins on your belly wall. It's putting a fire in your belly, isn't it?" "Yes...sir." "A bit of hesitation there. Not much training then. Would you like more?" "Oh yes sir. Very much so." "We shall see. Meanwhile let me examine you closer." Sean had a beautiful body, slender yet muscular, taut, toned, and tanned with narrow shoulders, eight pack abdominals, and narrow hips. His legs were well muscled with veins prominent under the skin because of his low body fat. Its faultless lines were not marred by body hair. His sex was proportional with a smooth cock, foreskin stretched over the head, and a scrotum the size of an apple and held close to the belly. Sean was gratified that his genitals didn't look shriveled like with a lot of other guys. His cock wasn't gnarly with veins. His foreskin hugged his cock head, outlining the ridge of the glans under the skin, leaving just the slit at the tip visible. Cock and balls were reasonably sized but he wouldn't be scaring the horses. It took both small hands to cover his erection, but only one when he was soft. Sayid eyed the lad critically. He put his big hands on the youth's shoulders, slid his palms over the flaring pectorals, ran his hands down the impressively scalloped belly and circled his navel with his thumb, then ran his fingers over the boy's narrow hips. He turned him around and ran his hands down the boy's shoulder blades and flanks to the flare of his hips and on to the curve of his buttocks, giving them a firm squeeze followed by a pinch. "Hey!" Sean objected, turning and covering his ass with his hands protectively. "Just getting acquainted. Don't worry Sean. No rough stuff. I promise." As the boy subsided, Sayid continued with the examination. He slid the blade of his hand between the boy's taut buttocks, giving an appreciative grunt as he tapped the small hole therein. He slicked his fingers along the perineum, then poked his index finger into the tight hole. The boy pushed back on the impaling finger, moaning and gasping in arousal. Leaving the boy hanging, Sayid pulled out and continued his examination. He reached forward testing the firmness of the muscles on the back of Sean's thighs and of his calves. The boy was impressively muscled and toned for one so slight of build. How erotic it was; the lad's slenderness was accentuated by the way he stood straight, arms at shoulder height, elbows back, his chest thrust forward, emphasizing the vulnerability of the torso. The captain spun the youth to face him once again, smiling at the boy's embarrassment the way the intimate visual and physical scrutiny had stimulated him, plumping his cock up a bit. Sayid took the boy's testicles between his thumbs and forefingers rolled them gently. The attention and stimulation to his vulnerable balls quickly got Sean's cock rigid. His ball sac pulled tight to the fork of his legs, the engorged cock jutting straight out, with a fleshy purpled glans shaped like an arrowhead at the end, a droplet of fluid glistening on its tip, a composition bursting with youthful male assertiveness. Just a bit of a squeeze and the boy got that look on his face that aroused lads get when they are about to cum, a kind of ecstatic grimace. Nothing quite like controlling the source of a young male's masculinity to make your point about power relationships here. Sayid grasped the boy's cock and balls, enclosing them in his grip, taking control of his masculinity. A tug on his scrotum showed the lad who was in control. Though Sean moaned at the rough treatment of his precious balls, his erection never flagged. He was a complaisant youth who obviously liked to have a strong male take charge of him, to control him, to grab his balls and squeeze hard to show who was boss while he stood there at attention, arms back, legs spread, hairless vulnerable ballsac hanging down, just begging for his nuts to be fondled or even cracked again. Sayid gave them another good squeeze. The boy's belly muscles contracted and he hissed in pain, bending forward protectively but quickly snapping back to an upright position, leaving himself open to whatever Sayid wanted to do with the small spheres in their wrinkly ballsac. Not just a natural submissive, then, but something of a pain slut, Sayid concluded. "Your lover is a fool not to take you on any terms. You are just about the most beautiful boy I have ever laid eyes on and the most complaisant. You would take anything I threw at you, wouldn't you, little one? I could crack your nuts or spank you or string you up for an ass whipping, couldn't I?" "Yes sir." "I am guessing that you are one of those gene tweaked boys. The treatment tends to make these lovely spheres work overtime, giving you a supercharged sex drive, even for a teenaged boy." "Yes, I am. And you?," Sean ventured. "Oh, I am an early version." Sayid laughed. Sayid was referring to expensive gene tweaking of the gametes before conception and birth. Sean was a member of the first generation to fully benefit from advances in the understanding of obscure structures called telomeres in chromosomes, which induced the body to maintain its physiological processes in a state of homeostasis. The gene therapy also protected him against all forms of cancer and stopped the aging process in the late teens. The first embryos on whom the technique was used had found their aging arrested in their mid-twenties. The boy's folks were not well off enough themselves to have afforded it, but a bequest from an uncle had given them the wherewithal to confer this blessing on their son. Sean would spend the next three or four centuries never aging as a beardless and hairless youth of seventeen, looking exactly as he did just then. Everyone was worried about the demographic, social, and political fallout of these trends as the end of the twenty-first century approached. "Well then, if things are so bad between you and your lover, and you relish a bit of rough handling, why not just sail away with me? Cruise the seas for a month or so, then you can be on your way when we return to port in Aden. Or maybe you could visit my resort in the Socotra Archipelago. Do you need anything from the schooner?" "Well, my clothes of course. I can't just take off stark naked." "Of course you can. I am sure that you don't bother much with clothing on a sea cruise anyway.You are one of those modern Western boys who obviously likes to run around naked much of the time, to judge from your all over tan and hairless physique. More than bit of an exhibitionist, I would guess, especially from the passive way you let me touch you and examine you, even hurt you a bit. Well here is your chance to live out a fantasy from the Arabian Nights, to serve as a nude cabin boy aboard a sailing dhow, to go on a long voyage with an Arab sheik bound for foreign parts." "I am a rich man, as you can see. I can guarantee passage back home after your vacation. I also promise to keep you naked the whole time too. Naturally I expect you will let me play with your delectable body. You were born to be a sex toy, Sean. Anyone can see that. I can train you in the arts of an oriental houri boy, to let you live a true-life Arabian Nights fantasy. Doesn't my idea appeal to you, Sean, sailing away on my boat, stark naked without access to any clothing at all?" It was a wild idea, but one Sean found exciting and attractive. How outrageous and sexy it would be to take off like that wearing nothing more than his suntan. What a voyage it would be sailing all the way to Socotra in the Arabian Sea off the tip of the Horn of Africa, over 3000 kilometers (nearly 2000 miles). The people on every vessel they encountered would see how pretty and sexy Sean looked in the altogether, utterly hairless. And why not accept the offer of an extended stay? He had nearly two months till classes started.He rather liked the idea of being an on-board sex toy for an Arab sheik. What had the captain called him, a houri boy? How sexy that sounded. How exciting it would be to be trained as a houri boy for sexual service. And Sayid had promised that he would keep Sean stark naked for the entire trip. He also promised to spank him, to whip him and to cane his ass. On the spur of the moment, Sean decided he would do it, to sail away with him just as he had arrived, a nude mer-boy plucked from the sea. As Captain Sayid pointed out Sean did not actually need anything from aboard the schooner. The captain could provide him with clothing when the time came to return home. Meanwhile he had no need for clothing or anything else he had left on the schooner. The RFID chip implanted in Sean's right arm was his passport, wallet, driver's license, health insurance card, etc. Any standard reader could access his account information, medical records, and so forth and make transfers with a proper PIN or password from Sean or from a fingerprint or even a retinal scan. He hadn't brought along a phone or comp. On a vacation cruise the last thing you wanted to do was keep in touch or up with the news. "Shouldn't we let them know that I am on board your yacht. They might think I drowned or something." "Of course we should, and we shall, but you don't want an ugly confrontation with your boyfriend just now, do you, shouting across the water, recriminations? We can call later, when the others are up and about." Sean agreed to this suggestion too. How neat a way to turn the tables on Randy like that, to give him the brushoff and go off with another sugar daddy. Sean would sail away to fabled Arabia to the land where frankincense grew. Randy's notions about chastity for a healthy seventeen year old male were a crock. What a loser, though what did that say about Sean's own judgment in men. The whole thing appealed to the wild streak in the boy, taking off like that stark naked and all. Talk about traveling light! Here he was taking off in just his skin. He would submit himself to whatever sexual adventures his master Sayid had in mind for his new houri boy. What a concept. He clutched himself down there and shook with lustful excitement. He rubbed his butt cheeks anticipating the welts that the cane and the lash would put on those grapefruit shaped protuberances. The naive youth did not consider how sailing off like that might put him completely in the man's power. Sean hadn't wanted to talk to Randy even by radio, so he simply accepted his host's assurance later that morning that he had called the other vessel. Fortunately Sayid had called over to let them know the boy was all right. There was no point getting the local coast guard looking for a boy who had just dumped an overly possessive partner. Sayid also let Sean send a message to his folks via email. Now the world would not worry that little Sean had drowned or been taken by a shark. Sayid hoped and fully expected to take advantage of Sean's naivete and seduce him not only into his bed but also into his gay resort which made pretty boys available as companions to his guests, but this was no kidnapping or disappearance. Sayid paid his boys well for their services. Chapter 2. The Red Sea The dhow did a circuit of the Aegean islands though they did not go ashore except once at a notorious nude beach. They did sometimes lay along side other boats to socialize. Sean wasn't the only nude boy among those folk, but he was much the prettiest. Sayid always introduced Sean as a mer-boy he had plucked naked from the sea. Everyone found the tale of their encounter charming and sexy. Sean accepted their attentions and caresses as no more than was due to his beauty. He certainly did not object to being touched. Pretty boys who ran around in the nude could hardly complain when boy lovers gave him their attentions. Sayid was not possessive and did not mind if Sean slipped away for a romp with another pretty boy. That blue-eyed Irish boy on the money manager's yacht had been especially appealing with his peaches and cream complexion and red hair. They had made love in the hold but the yacht's master had lifted the hatch cover so all could witness their lusty joining. The randy boys ignored the jests and advice flung at them from above and thoroughly enjoyed themselves, deliberately prolonging their intimate session. They were only a little self-conscious as they mingled with the others afterwards, although it was a bit embarrassing when an older man pointed to the cum seeping out of Sean's hole and down his thighs. After passing through the Dodecanese Islands, they headed southeast to Suez. The inspector at the Canal did raise an eyebrow at a nude cabin boy, but a bribe hushed any concerns he might have had on that score. The Red Sea is the world's northernmost tropical sea, some 2250 km long (1400 miles) and 350 km wide (220 miles) at its widest. Although the median trench is deep, there are also extensive shallow shelves noted for their marine life and corals. Although the White Sea is that color from winter ice and the Yellow Sea is tinted by the load of yellow silt deposited by the Yellow River, there is nothing red about the waters of the Red Sea. Sean loved swimming in its waters. Their high concentration of salt buoyed him up; he didn't even have to scull his hands. As good a swimmer as he was, his trim muscular physique was not made for floating. He had too little body fat to keep him afloat. He loved swimming in the warm waters, comforted by the thought of the crew member with a rifle on guard for the approach of sharks. Finding yourself in the water with a shark, especially when you were stark naked, can make you feel very mortal and vulnerable. You suddenly realize that for all your skill as a swimmer, for all that your friends called you 'mer-boy', that it is the shark who was in his element, and the pretty human boy in the water merely a visitor and just maybe on the menu. Sometimes he and Sayid explored the coral reefs, donning rebreathers so they could stay down a long time. It was like visiting a fantasy world of creatures with strange shapes and vivid colors. They even explored a couple of old wrecks disintegrating on the bottom though they did not find any treasure. They stopped at several points along the coast including the Farasan Islands and the Dahlak Archiepelago, both noted for their coral reefs. Sayid wore modest swim trunks for these dives though of course the boy stayed naked. Sean soon found out that Sayid was quite serious about his duties as a cabin boy. Not only did he have to attend the captain as a body servant cum valet and to entertain him in bed. He actually was put to work as if he were another sailor. Not that he complained. Never a lazy boy, Sean was hard working and dutiful, so he lent a hand for whatever needed doing, happy to throw his wiry strength into hauling on a line, to shifting cargo, or even scrubbing the deck. The crew loved to watch little Sean at that task, on his knees, pushing a scrub brush back and forth, a nude sailor boy, taut brown butt cheeks flexing, crinkly hole visible in between, genitals dangling between his slender thighs, back and shoulder muscles rippling as he thrust forward and back. Almost like being on all fours to get pronged. Sean knew they were watching and knew that he was the captain's sex toy. Rather than be embarrassed, he simply spread his knees farther apart, giving them a better look at his boy hole and the dangly bits hanging between his slender thighs. Sean liked being useful, not just ornamental. The crew was the minimum size for such a large modern dhow. Though lateen sailed it used a standard wheel and tiller, not steering oars and the lines were controlled by winches under computer control. With modern electronics, GPS navigation and autopilot, only one sailor needed to be on watch in the off hours. Although all the crew were fully trained seamen and rotated duties, they also acted as servants. The captain did not take them to his bed. In fact his voyage was supposed to be a rest, a change of pace from his daily cares and practices as a resort owner and boy brothel master. Though quite lucrative, the business was actually something of a hobby for a man of inherited wealth like Sayid. Sean found himself under the man's spell, responding to his masculine strength, his sexual prowess, his imaginative style of sex play. He introduced Sean to light bondage, tying his wrists behind him and turning the boy over his knee while he spanked him. Sometimes he strung Sean up by his wrists for a mock flogging for some supposed infraction of the rules. Sean struggled theatrically as the youthful crewmen spread his ankles apart and tied them to rings set in the deck. He groaned as they added weights to a thong tied around his ball sac. The cat of nine-tails looked fearsome enough, but it merely left red welts. There were no bits of metal in the knots at the end that would tear the flesh as in days of old. Still it did sting as the thongs bit into his ass and back and thighs and chest. Sayid had sensed that the moderate pain only turned the boy on. Sean actually challenged Sayid to add more weight to his tormented balls to show that he could take it. Sayid responded, hanging another steel sphere and letting two kilos (four pounds) fall to the end of their tether really yanking on the boy's tackle. Sayid liked the way the boy's rib and belly muscles worked as he gasped and breathed and struggled to accept the torment. Sayid pulled the boy's face forward and they kissed passionately, tongues dueling. Sean hissed when the older man snapped mean looking alligator clamps on his nipples but watched fascinated as blood trickled down his ribs. It turned him on being strung up like that, so helpless and stretched out, his small body utterly vulnerable. Sayid would slick some blood up on a fingertip and offer it to the boy. He liked to paint his lips red with it. Indeed, Sayid like to have a boy taste all his own bodily fluids, blood and urine, pre-ejaculate and gism, sweat and tears. And the boy thrived on this rough regimen, hopelessly in lust with his new master and all the exciting experiences he was having with him. Of course, dominant though he was, Sayid would never do anything to actually injure or permanently mark the boy. Who would want to really injure such a beautiful creature as Sean. What greater sin could there be than to mar and spoil such youthful beauty. Not to mention he needed to keep the boy lovely for his potential clients. Sayid had not mentioned any of that to the boy yet. He would wait till after they reached Yemen to broach the idea to him. He sincerely hoped he could persuade to boy to work for him, at least for a few years. He knew the boy had very little money of his own. A few years as a houri boy would make provide for him comfortably. Sayid liked to have Sean fall on his knees and worship his manhood. His cock was like a club, long and thick and laced with angry veins just under the skin. He liked Sean to start by licking the shaft of his cock, letting the tip of the tongue trace the veins from his groin to his cockhead. He often clubbed the boy's face with his massive member, making him reach for it, to kiss and smooch his purple helmet and lick around the flange. He told him how exciting it was for him to have a boy of such delicate beauty to play with. "How pretty you look down there, Sean, so small and submissive, with those pouty lips of yours around my cock, sucking and slurping. Yes, look into my eyes, little one, see the man who turns your mouth and throat into a quim. Breathe in through your nose and take in the scent of a real man. You belong like this, on your knees, my little infidel, naked and hairless as any girl, serving a real man, a macho man." Of course Sean lived for when his master took his ass. Sayid was actually quite gentle with the lad when they really made love. To his surprise the sheik found he was growing quite fond of the boy, their sexual relationship aside. He caught the boy's gaze and smiled at him as he reached to his belly and loosened his sarong and let it fall. The boy's bright green eyes always opened wide in a comical fashion at he took in the sight of how hugely endowed the sheik was, incredibly potent with a cock like a truncheon. In length it was nearly twice the span of the boy's small hands. "Why are you trembling Sean?" He teased. "Afraid or just from anticipation?" "I guess I am always a little afraid, sir. You are so huge. I am so small, really tiny back there. You better than anyone knows how tight my hole is. I always want you sir, but I know that is will hurt too." "Yes it does hurt some; that is unavoidable, little thing that you are, but I am always careful, as you know. And as always, the initial pain soon turns to pleasure when you are with a man who knows how to make love to a boy. Trust me Sean. I am giving you the best fucking of your young life." "Yes, sir, I know that, but please be gentle with me." "Always with a delicate blossom like you, Sean." He laid the boy on his back and stretched out atop his slender form. Sayid's first kisses were soft even tentative, the ones that followed were urgent, demanding. He was all over Sean, his long dark hair framing his handsome face as he drank in the youth pressed to him. Sean responded, pressing their tumescent members together, murmuring words of passion as his arousal consumed him. Hands cupped buttocks, the blade of Sayid's hand slid into the lad's cleavage, fingers pushed a lubricating oil into the hole, preparing the lad for the fuck. Lips locked so hard Sean couldn't breathe. The man was virtually crushing him. He gasped for air, turned his head and started to lick Sayid's large nipples, then snuffled his armpits straining the hair there with his teeth. When the boy's tongue reached the big man's belly button he started to breathe faster. He ruffled Sean's hair and pushed him lower, demanding service. The youth turned his face to the giant cock straining upward from a wiry bush and started to lick away the drops welling out of the tiny slit at the end. This drew approving moans from the sheik, as his penis vanished into a velvet warmth that was his boy's mouth. The boy gently gnashed it with his teeth, tugging on the glans with soft sucks. The older man thrust his hips forward and squirmed, tossing his head. When the hard member was coated and slick, Sayid put the boy's slender legs onto his shoulders. Making love face to face was a joining to two persons not just two bodies. "I can't wait," Sayid said, his face flushed with ardor. "I am going to fuck you now." "Take me. I want you inside me. I need you, all of you, as deep as you can go. Take me, possess me, make me your boy." With just a little push from his hips to get past the first sphincter, Sayid's cockhead slipped into Sean's ass, eliciting a gasp from the boy. Sayid paused, letting his small lover get used to his huge girth. He pushed forward, slipping into him little by little, his arms supporting his weight. When he was a deep as he could go, he was rewarded with a blissful sigh from his partner. Again the sheik gave the lad time to get used to his girth, then started to pump slowly in and out. They fell into a rhythm, Sean raising his rump to meet the descending shaft as it penetrated his ass, using his internal muscles to squeeze the invading penis, both males sweating profusely. He responded as the boy on the bottom begged him to go deeper and faster. Sean loved it when his master's monster cock touched his joy spot, no his prostate, as he had learned to call it. As the invading shaft stimulated the prostate, his whole body shuddered helplessly. His lithe torso rippled in a wave that started at his ass and traveled up past the hips and back and shoulders to the head, a reflex action indicative of overwhelming lust. Sean felt his guts clutch in an internal orgasm. His green eyes blinked and rolled sightlessly and lost focus as he surrendered himself to the good feelings coursing through him. As the shaft fell into a rhythm of penetration and withdrawal, the sensation became overwhelming. He lost the ability for rational thought for the duration. His body was tempest tossed on a sea of sensation, the blood pounding at his temples, his boy cock as stiff as he could ever remember. It went on and on, the thrusting and the plunging, Sayid's masculinity pushing into the boy deeper than he had ever felt, till, in the fullness of time, the boy felt a wet warmth flooding his bowels as the sheik, his lord and master in every sense, spewed his seed deep within him, setting off Sean's own passionate ejaculation onto his chest and belly. The big man eased his weight off the small form of his lover and lay at his side, stroking the lovely mer-boy, slicking some of his own cum on a finger and presenting it to him. Sean's tongue flicked out and licked up the treasured fluid, coating his teeth and gums with it, so he would keep the taste of it in his mouth and in his breath just as Sayid liked. Sean sighed in the afterglow of their lovemaking. He would do anything for this man. Like most teenagers, he had once thought he had invented sex. Sayid had shown him just how wrong that notion was. "Sayid. What is it with the sarongs on your crew. Surely that is not authentically Arabic dress, is it?" "Ah, a scholar speaks. Your beauty sometimes makes me forget how intelligent and well read you are. Actually you are correct. The sarong is more characteristic of the lands of South and Southeast Asia. I like it on a boy, since it emphasizes the rump, but it is also practical, simple, and very pretty. It comes in a near infinite variety of patterns and colors. I understand the sarong is quite popular in the West too." "Yes, it is. All the young guys wear sarongs." "When they bother with any clothing at all." They laughed. "Actually, we of the umma, the community of believers, are enjoined not to bare the male physique from waist to knee. So it keeps the religious authorities from objecting to the way I dress the crew." "What about me. I am totally naked." "Ah, but you are an infidel, little one, meaning no offense. And though houri boys may sometimes wear diaphanous loose trousers, they are often entirely nude, as you shall be." "I like the sound of that. Houri boy. Does it mean..." "No, despite the similarity of sound, the Arabic word houri has nothing to do with the English word whore. Actually now that we are in Yemeni waters, I think it would be a good time to broach a proposal I have for you." Sayid then outlined his offer to Sean to train him to work for Sayid in his high class gay resort on the island of Socotra. He knew that Sean had felt out of place in his freshman year at college, a diligent studious boy, two years younger than most and much smaller, with no money to spend on fun things. It had been hard to make friends, real friends, not just meet boys who wanted him for sexual gratification. Shocked at first but then intrigued, Sean told Sayid that he would think about his offer. Meanwhile, the boy was welcome as the sheik's guest. It went without saying that he would also be the man's sex toy and occasional whipping boy too. Chapter 3. Socotra They stopped at Aden, normally the dhow's home port, taking a seaplane from there to the main island. The monsoon season from June to September brings strong winds and high seas that make the sea passage to Socotra hazardous. Socotra is a small archipelago of four islands in the Indian Ocean off the Horn of Africa and some 190 nautical miles (220 mi/350 km) south of the Arabian peninsula. It belongs to the Republic of Yemen. The main island is a little over 130 km (80 miles) long east to west and typically 30 or so kilometers (20 miles) north to south. Socotra, once part of the supercontinent of Gondwana, is one of the most isolated landforms on Earth of continental origin (meaning it was not volcanic in origin). The climate is generally tropical desert, with light, seasonal rain in the winter, with more falling on the higher ground of the interior than on the coastal lowlands. "Why do you live on Socotra, Sayid, when you could live anywhere?" "I love the island, even though I am originally from the mainland, near the port of Mukalla. Socotra is like no other place on earth. It is a jewel of biodiversity in the Arabian sea. The long geological isolation of the archipelago and its fierce heat and drought have created a unique and spectacular flora including the dragon's blood tree, which are those strange-looking, umbrella-shaped growths over there. The ancients called its red sap 'dragon's blood' which was much sought after as a medicine and dye. I should explain that botany is one of my hobbies. The island is also rich in bird life, though the only mammal native to these islands is the bat." "Also the fierce heat is a good excuse for the guests and the boys at my resort to run around naked much of the time or to bathe in the sea or the swimming pools." Sayid said with a smile and a fond caress of Sean's incomparable ass. Upon landing, officials looked a bit askance at the nude blond boy on board the seaplane, but the sheik's business was well-known in those parts, so it was not really a surprise that he was accompanied by a naked foreign boy, obviously his latest recruit. Sean did feel self-conscious standing before uniformed port officials entirely naked especially when he had to admit that he had traveled from Greece without any personal effects whatsoever, no clothing, no equipment, nothing. Just a naked boy on a boat. The ultimate in come-as-you-are. Questioned about his purpose in traveling to Yemen, as he had been coached, Sean said he was there to work for the sheik in his establishment. That kept his options open for actually taking a job as a houri boy. Persons entering on tourist visas could not legally work in the country. Only those with scarce skills were permitted work permits. Challenged as to what his scarce skills might be, Sean flushed and stammered. The senior official pointed to the floor, so the boy fell to his knees, as ordered, and demonstrated his oral skills to both officials. Knowing he had to impress these men, Sean did not settle for a perfunctory job of it, but used all his skill in sucking and deep throating their engorged members. Still not satisfied, despite getting the best blow jobs of their lives, they told the youth to bend over a desk so they could probe him for contraband. "Is that really necessary, sir? What contraband can a naked boy like me smuggle into your country?" Sean asked with some exasperation. "Tut, tut, little one. We are just doing our duty," the man explained unconvincingly. Sean could hardly object, having claimed he was there to work for the sheik as a joy boy. With a certain amount of ill-grace he reached back and spread his cheeks to provide access to the lustful officials. They fingered and lubed his hole, and it was good they did. Both were well-endowed, their cocks long and pendulous. They plowed the boy to the depths, squelching and thrusting, marveling in how tight the boy's nether hole was. Neither was particularly rough with him. Indeed, Sean's beauty inspired not only lust but a certain tenderness toward the pretty lad. After all, aside from perfunctory objections, the boy had given them much satisfaction. To celebrate the occasion, they took a set of pictures as souvenirs: the boy standing between them their arms over his shoulders as well as single shots front and back. These would let them relive their experience with the boy. Sayid had waited patiently outside the office and greeted Sean with a sardonic look, one eyebrow raised. He smiled at the boy's flush but clapped him reassuringly on the shoulder. Boys will be boys. They climbed into a utility wagon for the short trip out of town to his resort. The resort was a marvel of late twenty-first century architecture and technology incorporated within traditional looking structures. It used the latest in desalinization technology for fresh water, wind towers and sea water channels in the limestone rock to cool the air indoors, and solar electricity to supplement the lines drawing current from a wave power station farther down the coast. Mostly two stories tall and set into limestone slopes just above the shore, it sprawled its way across many handsomely landscaped hectares with dragon trees planted everywhere. It boasted salt and freshwater swimming pools, a sandy beach, a gym, bungalows and a main hotel, and a cabaret, bar, restaurant complex in the center. The whole atmosphere was gay and all but the fanciest of the three restaurants was clothing optional. Most of the staff were foreign workers from a dozen countries. Virtually all were male and most gay. Out of respect for Moslem sensibilities, there were no females and indeed few who professed the faith of their prophet. It was a foreign enclave in an out of the way island All his staff were young males dressed in no more than sarongs while inside the compound though many put on more modest attire when they left the premises. Sean of course stayed on the premises entirely naked. Still, now that he was back on the island, the sheik had less time to spend with the young American. He had a business to run and investments to manage. In between their lovemaking sessions and their quiet evenings together, Sean had time on his hands. He spent hours on the net keeping in touch with friends and events, and he even started learning Arabic. Never an idler, Sean asked to help with the gardening. The sheik's resort used drip irrigation to grow fresh produce for his establishment. Mornings soon found little Sean happily engaged in growing fruits and vegetables. Sean genuinely liked his horitcultural chores: planting, seeding, hoeing, weeding, pruning, staking, watering, whatever. It was deeply satisfying to tend to plants, to make things grow, to grub his hands in the soil piling dirt around celery stalks so they would turn white. The naked blond boy could often be found kneeling on the ground, brown cheeks resting on bare feet, tanned skin glistening with sweat, lithe torso bent over, ribs and spinal bumps prominent as, trowel in hand, he worked at his mundane task firm muscles playing under the skin. The boy seemed unmindful that in the desert heat the sweat would run in rivulets off his back, down to his ass and sluice suggestively into his deep cleavage. The way the sun reflected off him made him positively glow with good health and desireability. He looked like he was virtually bursting with vitality, a fine specimen of the human animal. "So this is the boy you have been bragging about. Yes, he is quite extraordinarily beautiful." "The prettiest and sexiest lad I have ever taken to bed." the skeik affirmed with conviction. "What are those faint welts on his back and ass?" "From his latest whipping. Alas the lad is often naughty and needs to be punished for his infractions." the sheik replied, shaking his head sadly with mock regret. Sean turned to see the skeik and an older European man watching him work. The man was about forty, in good shape, with a strong rather than a handsome face. "You are a lucky man Sayid, my friend, the way you just plucked him out of the sea, a naked mer-boy. I would pay much for such a boy." "The boy is a free agent, Gianni. He is here as my guest, and is certainly not for sale. The old days and the old ways are over with." "Of course, of course," the man replied -- perhaps a little too hurriedly to be totally sincere. Sean smiled up at the master of the household then went back to his task. Sayid stood beside him and caressed his golden locks. Sean turned his face up to Sayid and let Sayid rub his cheek. The contact felt good. Sean was content with the simplicity of his life at the compound. He kept busy, his Arabic was improving, and the sheik was still clearly besotted with him and vice versa. He shared a bungalow with Sayid who lived on the premises, though Sean had his own room where he could be alone when he needed to be. For his part Sayid was glad not only for the fantastic sex but for the companionship. The boy was intelligent if not worldly wise. Sayid could talk things over with him at length, for Sean was a good listener. Even if the boy had no practical suggestions, just talking about his problems often clarified Sayid's options. If Sean's political opinions and social views were a little idealistic and naive, well, that could be excused by his extreme youth. His was a refreshing presence in the sheik's world. Sean spent much of his time outdoors, swimming at the beach or pools, running, sunning, reading in the shade during the hottest part of the day. He liked to be out and about, to take in fresh air, to let everyone watch him and admire and lust after his sexy body. Sometimes he let himself get carried away with his enthusiasm. One of his fantasies had always been to prance down a crowded city street wearing just a sheen of sweat, his manhood tumescent, sticking straight out, a string of precum hanging from the head of his cock, all purple and swollen. How terrific that would be! A pretty boy in heat, cock proud and strutting along, whirling so everyone could see him from every side. He never had the guts to try it at home, but at the resort, why not? It was a gay resort after all. So one day Sean went ahead and strutted his stuff, spinning around as he walked to show his sexy body in a state of full arousal. Sean liked the way his hairless groin made his genitals look larger, though they were a pretty fair size for someone with his slight build. He looked so sexy with his ball sac pulled tight to the fork of his legs, engorged cock jutting straight out with a fleshy purpled glans shaped like an arrowhead at the end, a droplet of fluid glistening on its tip, a composition bursting with youthful male assertiveness. Needless to say he drew the attention and the ministrations of more than one guest that afternoon. Sean's lubricious display of concupiscence was recorded by quite a number of guests and disseminated over the web. Gosh, what did that say about him. He was turning into such a boy slut these days. Still a naughty boy of seventeen as pretty as Sean can be forgiven a bit of vanity and exhibitionism, though Sayid did not spare the rod that afternoon. Life was good. The only cloud on the horizon was that soon he had to make a decision on whether to take the man he already addressed as master up on his offer of employment as a houri boy. Otherwise he would have to leave soon to return to college. It was a very attractive offer. Sayid had assured him that Sean would clear at least half a million New Dollars, U.S., in two years. The clientele were rich and not only paid well but tipped well. Sean would not see any money till the end of his term of employment. It would be banked for him and held in trust. It felt good living without possessions. He had never been much attached to things anwyay. People yes, knowledge yes, material things no. Sean had all he needed at the resort: a comfortable room, a tasty and healthy diet, opportunities for sports, fun, and learning. He had made friends among the staff of the resort and romped with them and others. Sean was a popular lad who did not abuse his position as Sayid's favorite or put on airs. It is kind of hard to keep your nose in the air when you are prancing around in the nude, especially on those days when everyone could see the welts and bruises that occasionally marked your skin. Many of the boys had seen Sean in the mock dungeon where the master and patrons of the resort inflicted mild tortures and punishments on their boys. The 'slave boys' often compared welts and bruises, proud that they had been able to take what the patrons had dished out. Of course many patrons brought their own lads or used those Sayid provided just for sexual fun, no rough stuff. Sean did like it a bit rough, though within reason. For his part, Sayid was happy to indulge Sean's slave boy fantasies. He loved spanking or caning his boy and watching those perfect buns turn red. The fire in his belly really got going when Sayid and one of his muscleman helpers strung Sean up with ropes or put him in shackles. The youth too trembled with both lust and fear as they rendered him helpless, blindfolded and gagged, spread-eagled and vulnerable, both men chuckling evilly at the 'fiendish tortures' the hapless lad would suffer at their hands, all the while mocking him for his small size, his lack of manly body hair, teasing him for the string of pre-ejaculate depending from his plumped up cock. This was a boy who was asking for it, who needed it bad. And they were there to see that he got it. They particularly liked using the plasma globe which inflicted a stinging spark anywhere on a boy's anatomy. Blindfolded and gagged, poor Sean could only writhe helplessly as they brought the device near his luscious body. The whole while, it made a crackling and humming sound. Sean could sense its approach to his ass, his flanks, his belly, and especially to his rigidly erect cock and hairless balls. No part of the boy was spared as he was repeatedly touched and stung, till he hung in his bonds whimpering and crying. Then before he hardly knew it was happening, Sayid thrust his truncheon of a cock into him, impaling Sean on his manhood, stimulating his prostate with his strokes, making the boy wild with desire, shuddering and moaning. Sayid's thrusts and his manipulation of Sean's cock often let them climax simultaneously. For Sean, his time with Sayid was the best sex he had ever had. Finally, one day, Sayid asked Sean to make up his mind. Was he going to stay on at the resort as an employee, or return to the States? Sean's main reservation was not about having to accept clients who did not turn him on, but how he would explain this change in his plans to his folks. As accepting as they were about their gay son, learning that he intended to work as a rent boy for two years, selling his body and charms would not be welcome news, no matter how lucrative the proposition or how up-scale the clients were. His video conference with his folks was painful. The main proposition aside, they could only shake their heads when Sean mentioned that one of the attractions of the job was the chance to stay stark naked continuously for the next two years. But once past it, he turned optimistically to the future, sure they would forgive him when he returned to the States in two years' time. Although he often had sex with Sayid, Sean now shared rooms with the other boys, three to a room. It was very much like being in a college dorm. All the lads were in late teens to mid twenties and from all parts of the globe. His roommates were Ahmed, a sloe eyed boy from North Africa, and Jules, a French kid from near Marseille, both eighteen. Both boys spoke Arabic, giving Sean a natural immersion experience in that language. Even though the others wanted to improve their English, Sean insisted on reciprocity. They would switch languages on alternate days. Any infractions from that rule were punished by a swat or two on the rump with tawse kept handy for that purpose. The offender had to bend over, grab his ankles and take one swat from each boy in the room. Occasionally the brief punishment really amounted to foreplay as the bent over boy was put to a better use. Sean liked sex with pretty boys like himself about as much as with strong masterly types like Sayid. Each type excited him, though in a different way. Sex with another boy was a delight. Sex with a man like Sayid is a craving, a need. With a boy, he felt energized as they jumped into bed. With a man he got all weak and submissive, ready to drop to his knees and worship, even to submit to light to moderate bondage and discipline. Among themselves the boys on staff called their section of rooms 'The Harem', though Sayid seldom sought out anyone except Sean himself and always took him to his own bungalow. Many boys emulated Sean in staying naked all the time, challenged by Sean's intention to stay nude for more than two years. Guests booked the boys for their exclusive use three days at a time. During that time, the lads were expected to be at their beck and call for both companionship and sex. The boys were expected to be good conversationalists not just sex toys. Most of the clients were in their thirties and forties and mostly in decent shape. They liked to have boys about when swimming, diving, playing volleyball, and other sports, for meals, and for dancing and sex in the evenings. Many were men of importance, glad for the chance to unburden themselves of their cares with a boy who did not have an axe to grind and would never be judgmental. It was usually very pleasant and civilized, as Sean had observed for himself while still a personal guest of the sheik. Sean even took a few college course over the web, so he would have some extra credits when he went back for his sophomore year. Sean did feel a little uncomfortable around Sayid's business associate Gianni Olivetti. Sayid sometimes assigned Sean to the man when he was on the island, once every few months. Sean liked to act out slave boy fantasies in the dungeon, but Gianni took his role as slave master a little too seriously. It wasn't just that the man liked to whip Sean harder than the other patrons, but his attitude seemed predatory rather more than his role called for. With Sayid, he knew they were playacting, for all the sting of the whips and the discomforts and welts and bruises their rough sex play left. With Gianni, Sean felt like the man was holding himself back because of the setting at the resort and his business relationship with Sayid. If he ever got the boy alone and isolated, who knew how far he would go? One day, while Sayid was on the mainland at the capital, Olivetti asked Sean to meet him at a secluded cove that evening. The moonlight gleamed on the waters. Phosphorescence glowed where fish broke the surface. A carpet was laid on the ground with wine and light refreshments. Sean sat down as the older man talked and stroked his body, feeding him dates and pouring him a glass of wine. Suddenly Sean felt woozy and found the man smiling evilly at him. He had been drugged. The next day found the boy at sea tied up in the rope locker of an old fishing boat. Olivetti was a smuggler and had several such vessels operating in these waters. Smuggling was a way of life in those parts of the world. Why pay import and export duties on merchandise that greedy governments had done nothing to procure or safeguard? He confronted the boy. "Now you belong to me, little one. No more games, no more rules, and no more restraint, once I get you to my villa in the Aeolian Islands in the Tyrrhenian Sea north of Sicily. We will not be disturbed there. Sayid should have just sold you to me. All that nonsense about your being a free agent, you a naked and hairless whore boy. I will make it up to him after he cools down. After all, business is business." "You are wrong, Gianni. Sayid will kill you. He loves me, and I love him." The older man just buffeted the boy in the face with the back of his hand. "You got that for disrespecting your master, little one. You must always call me sir or master." "Never! Sayid al Qu'ati is my lord and master." "If he crosses me I will have him killed." Two nights later, Sean heard shouting as the boat tried to pass through the Strait of Bab al Mandeb, the Gate of Tears, at the southern end of the Red Sea west of Aden. Suddenly something heavy crashed into the side of the boat. It was Sayid's dhow ramming Gianni's fishing boat. The sheik had known that Olivetti's boat must pass through the strait sooner or later. Shots rang out from both boats, and men cursed and fought, but the struggle was over quickly. The door to Sean's improvised brig was flung open and the boy looked out, partly blinded by the sudden light. "Sayid!" was all he said then fainted dead away. Events moved swiftly after that. Sayid himself carried the boy he loved in his arms onto his dhow, his men taking care to keep their prisoners under guard. Gianni was dead, gunned down in cold blood really when he tried to surrender. Sayid did not care for legal niceties in such situations and had handled the matter himself. He had no intention of living the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for whatever revenge Gianni might be able to arrange from prison. And after all, the man and his crew had been armed, so presumably ready to employ deadly force. As a sheik of his tribe Sayid felt he had the authority of tradition and custom on his side, even though he was not a government official. The Yemeni government hushed up the incident. It would be bad for the country's image and for tourism on which the economy was dependent. Sean was happy to go along with the cover up too. It kept his parents in the dark about what had nearly happened. Sayid and Sean resumed their idyllic life together, their bond strengthened by adversity. After two happy years, Sayid insisted that Sean return to college to complete his education. A fine mind like his would be a terrible thing to waste. Sean felt very strange putting clothing on after more than two years continuously nude. Sayid promised that the couple would get together again the next summer and every summer after that. Too much time together could be bad for their relationship, given their probable longevity. With several centuries of youth ahead of them, they could afford a love affair taken in installments. This was likely to be the pattern with all the long-lived of their generation. Periodic separations would keep their relationships from going stale. In between, it was likely they would meet other partners who attracted them, but neither lover was possessive or clinging or disapproving of such attachments. Whatever happened, they would always have their happy memories of their exciting and satisfying time together at the resort on Socotra. For their part, Sean's parents were reassured by the new maturity they saw in their son. Yes he looked no older, still no more than a very young seventeen, but pretty boy looks notwithstanding, he now walked with the self-assurance and carriage of a grown man.