Date: Mon, 28 Feb 2005 09:26:15 -0500
From: edcwriter@yahoo.com
Subject: THE PRIEST & THE PAUPER - 9

THE PRIEST & THE PAUPER - 9

Copyright 2005 by Carl Mason and Ed Collins

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the authors.  However based on real events and
places, "The Priest and the Pauper" is strictly fictional.  Any resemblance
to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.  As in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold
gradually.  If you would like to read other Mason-Collins stories, you
might turn to "Out of the Rubble" and "Castle Margarethen," both of which
are archived in Nifty's "Historical" section.  Comments on the story are
appreciated and may be addressed to the authors at edcwriter@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both
adults and teenagers.  As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the
personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults.  If you are not of
legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you
trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral
dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally, remember that maturity
generally demands that anything other than safe sex is sheer insanity!


CHAPTER 9

(Revisiting Chapter 8)

Before they dropped Shane and Tim off, however, Dave turned to the
redheaded youth and asked, "Do you remember that I mentioned a 'project' in
which I was involved at the New Year's Eve party?  If you're still
interested, I would really appreciate some help.  Besides," he grinned, "I
need to see you again...as soon as possible."  A radiant redhead whispered
that anything Dave wanted was his.  In the back seat, Tim and Tiger
overheard the conversation and whispered, "YES-S-S!" as they gripped each
other's hands so tightly that their knuckles turned white!  (Had it not
been an open convertible and had they not been pulling up in front of St.
Pat's at exactly that moment...)

(Continuing Our Story - Toying with Love)

Determined to pass the tests that would allow him to enter high school in
the fall, the redheaded one had never worked so hard on his remedial
studies.  He spent endless hours with Brother John and, with the Brother's
permission, with Dr. Bill.  In both cases, he felt guilty for taking so
much of their time, but they insisted that his efforts were earning it.  In
truth, he especially enjoyed his appointments with the professor.  The
improvement in his writing and comprehension was marked, but it wasn't only
that.  For instance, he was allowed to browse the professor's home library.
When he found something of potential interest, he had a guide at his elbow.
That was only the beginning, for he began to find that the professor was
stretching his mind in ways that he found challenging and ever so exciting.
Between appointments, he found himself arguing at length with Fr. Tom,
Brother John, and anyone else who would listen to him!  Dr. Bill took the
youngster to Storrs several times to sit in on one of his classes that was
discussing "American Literary Classics" - and Shane more than held his own.
It was a time of great growth for the young man and, had he known it, as
exciting to his guides as to him.  Naturally, one can not keep working at
such a pace for ever.  Thus, the timing was perfect when he received a
much-awaited phone call from Storrs.

With some reluctance, Fr. Tom allowed Shane to accept Dave's invitation -
as long as he took Tim along with him, as before.  (Little did the good
priest know how quickly Tim disappeared once he saw Tiger excitedly
shifting from one foot to the other as he greeted the bus at Storrs.)
After a pleasant lunch with several of Dave's group - including Colleen and
Darci who were leaving right after lunch for a weekend at the shore - the
redhead learned more about the "project."  Dave was an amateur photographer
- and a very good one.  (In fact, Photography was his UConn minor.)  Shane
was thoroughly impressed by the albums and portfolios that his idol shared
with him.  There were landscapes, wonderful photos of mountain climbing,
pictures taken on a family summer trip to Europe, and endless pictures of
the human form in every degree of dress and undress.  Dave thought that his
body was good enough to be included in that collection - and, more, he had
asked Shane to help him.  Having no qualms about displaying his body and
idolizing the collegian, the infatuated youth enthusiastically accepted
with love and complete trust.

To both his surprise and delight, Shane found that Dave had assembled quite
a collection of expensive "cruise/vacation" clothing in his size.
("Friends...," he explained.)  The youth loved every minute spent in trying
on expensive shirts and slacks.  Dave laughingly claimed that a gorgeous
silk suit made him look like the son of a millionaire!  The underwear
collection, that also included a few silk articles and some bikinis, was a
complete turn-on for the naive young lad.  The pool wear collection was as
good as one would find in the finest New York City men's store - robes,
sandals of finest leather and, of course, an extensive series of swimsuits
that ranged from the latest trunks to some provocative pieces that one
wouldn't exactly wear on a public beach!  (Dave said that he had been to
some pool parties at private mansions down on the shore where they WERE
worn - and that had REALLY been exciting!)

After nearly an hour and a half of rapid-fire photography, Dave asked the
excited boy if he had any problem "showing off his super build."  When Dave
grinned widely and said, "No problem!"  the session quickly became
considerably "hotter."  Spreading a rich blue covering on his bed, Dave
explained that he wanted the naked redhead to imagine himself asleep,
dreaming of having made love earlier in the evening to the most beautiful
guy he had ever seen.  (Imagining having made love to Dave, the boy threw
himself into the role with rising ardor.)  Now the shots came more slowly
as Dave would comment on the redhead's facial expressions and even arrange
parts of his body so as to be more provocative.  His photographer didn't
have to spend much time arranging his heavy genitals so as to drape more
seductively over his thigh, for instance, before the youth's reactions
became entirely natural!  At one point, Shane sensed that someone else was
in the room taking pictures, but what the hell?  By that time, his body had
taken over control of his reactions and was suppressing any "minor"
concerns.  Even when the other photographer added a few drops of oil to his
body and rubbed it over both his torso and genitals, he felt only a rising
thrill.

Eventually, Dave ended this part of his picture taking and sat on the bed,
sharing a soft drink with his sweaty, aroused model.  His arm around the
lad's muscled back, he told him what a fantastic job he was doing.  If he
ever wanted to make some REAL money in modeling - or, maybe, attend one of
those parties down at the shore - there was little doubt that it could be
arranged.  "Back to work," Dave finally murmured.  In the next set, Shane's
job was to simulate a Teutonic prince who had been captured by the Romans
and was being tortured.  Although a few pieces of leather, e.g., a collar
plus wrist and ankle cuffs, were attached to his body, Dave couldn't
possibly have known the background Shane would bring to making this part of
his project utterly believable!  Without being asked, for instance, Shane
thrust his arms upwards as if lashed to hooks far above, spread his
powerful thighs, screwed his face into expressions of pain and suffering,
and flexed every muscle in his body. Though slightly embarrassed, he felt
himself go erect.  Again, the young lad was sure that at least one other
person had quietly entered the room and was taking part in the photography.
Even when someone other than Dave ran he fingers seductively over his body
and toyed with his balls and rock-hard cock, the boy was too far into his
role to object.  Indeed, objection was probably the last thing on his mind
as his body was rapidly giving way to passion and a need for relief.

With the slightest hesitation in his voice, Dave asked if Shane would
possibly do something for which he would always be grateful - an act that
only a true friend would perform.  As pictures were taken, would he allow
himself to be stimulated until he came?  The redheaded one didn't think
twice - in fact, he barely thought.  For Dave?  Anything!  For a moment,
Dave sat beside him on the couch bed, running his hands over his body,
fondling his genitals, kissing him passionately. Shane did feel a pang of
jealously when another young man entered the room, placed his arms around
Dave, and kissed him, but decided that it was all part of the game to keep
him excited.  Slowly, the collegian stripped the newcomer and caressed his
body possessively.  As the boy stretched out on top of Shane, the redhead
did have some feeling that he should have been asked about someone else
being involved in sex.  Things happened far too quickly, however, for more
than a momentary thought to cross his mind.  Quickly, as Dave and another
photographer snapped endless pictures, the lad began rubbing his body
erotically against Shane's.  Within minutes, their firm young bodies
tensed, arched, and exploded.

As the redhead regained full control of his senses, he rolled over on the
bed only to see that Dave and the young man who had entered the room during
the last set were naked and embracing.  "Dave?" he called out in a
trembling voice, reaching his arm towards his idol.  Firmly asserting that
it was immature to be jealous of "Larry," Dave came over to the bed.  He
sat beside the lad, almost mechanically playing with his body.  "There have
to be a few changes, Shane," he murmured.  "I have midterm exams coming up
and will be going down to Florida for the Spring Break.  Although I've
enjoyed our 'contacts' - and hope you have, too - I don't think that we're
going to be able to take this much further."  At first, the words didn't
really register in Shane's mind.  As a matter of fact, all he felt was a
terrible numbness spreading throughout his body.  As Larry looked on, for
instance, he was almost unaware of Dave's turning his body over and
entering him.  In fact, he was only beginning to come to in the shower as
Larry's mouth sucked Dave's cum from his asshole and teased a load from his
heavy cock.  He didn't feel much of anything until he found himself on the
bus back to Sherburne under the worried eye of Tim.  And then he felt a
terrible sense of pain, loss, and humiliation that saw tears coursing down
his face and quiet sobs torn from his throat.

(A Deepening Crisis)

For several days, the redhead's mood swung wildly back and forth between
deep depression and a withdrawn reflectiveness.  Though normally of a sunny
disposition, he did have his moods, and his friends knew when to simply
leave him alone.  When his head was occasionally clear enough to think, he
realized that not all abuse was physical.  He'd learned a valuable lesson
about life and love even though he'd been used as a sexual toy.  A pretty
wrapping just doesn't guarantee that it covers a great gift!  In the future
he'd be one hell of a lot more careful with regard to whom he shared his
affections.  During this period, Tim was about the only guy in the Gang to
whom he allowed easy access.  Tim experience in Storrs had clearly been far
different from his.  Actually, Shane was a little jealous at first when Tim
poured out his heart and, when encouraged, recounted moments of high
passion, but jealously was a very transitory emotion for the redhead.
Clearly, Tiger was like him in that he was starved for love and appreciated
every scrap of affection thrown his way.  Unlike him, however - for the
gregarious redhead could always get a "piece of something" - the shy Storrs
freshman was an isolate.  As he came to understand how deeply the two
youngsters felt about each other, he assured a grateful (and very shaken)
young lad that his relationship didn't have to end just because Dave's and
his had.  In fact, he would support it in any way he possibly could.

Rather than regaining his emotional footing, the redhead's depression
gradually deepened.  In fact, it progressed to the point where he began to
miss meals and only lethargically to enter into his chores and lessons.
Tim couldn't help and spoke with Brother John.  John tried to talk with him
on several occasions, but the boy quietly deflected his efforts.  Noticing
his travail as he sat on "his" bench in the courtyard, Sister Paul again
tried to strike up a conversation, but to no avail.  At the behest of the
Bishop, Fr. Tom was attending a week long conference in the nation's
capital focused on problems of child neglect.  The lad, his face increasing
gaunt and set into a sad frown, found that it was increasingly difficult to
sleep.  One night, perhaps around 2:00 a.m., he left the dorm, slipped
upstairs into the dark, empty church, and made his way to the small Mary
Chapel in the transept.  He tried to kneel and pray, but he could not.
Almost comatose, barely in possession of his faculties, he ripped the
clothes from his body and threw himself naked onto the cold stone floor in
front of the altar. After praying to God for forgiveness for what he was
about to do, he rose.  Curiously, he found that he was so dizzy that he
could scarcely stand.  As he fumbled with his clothing, the kitchen knife
that he had secured under his belt fell to the stone floor and spun off
into the darkness.  It was nowhere to be found.  Dizzy, miserable, a
failure even at ending his intolerable pain, the distraught youth struggled
into his pants and shirt.  Leaving the other articles of clothing where
they had fallen, he stumbled towards the front doors of the old church.  It
was still pitch black outside, and a cold rain was coming down in sheets.
In an absolute frenzy of despair, the boy simply started running...up this
street... down that...it didn't matter.  He must have run barefooted at
breakneck speed through the freezing rain for nearly an hour.  The last of
his energy spent, gasping for breath, bending over as sharp pains wracked
his side, he looked up to find that he was in front of Dr.  Bill's house.
As if in a trance, he slowly climbed the wooden steps of the big old
residence and jammed his finger against the doorbell.  A sleepy professor,
wondering who in hell was continuously ringing his doorbell at this hour,
flipped on the porch light and opened the door only to have an unconscious
boy fall into his arms.

When Shane slowly came to, his eyes first noticed that the rain had stopped
and that some light was showing in the sky through a high window.  Before
long, he was able to make out tall bookcases, crammed with books of every
size and color, that covered most of the wall surfaces.  A large painting
hung in one open area above a desk, but it was too dark to make out the
subject.  But what...  Suddenly, the youngster also realized that he was
lying in someone's arms wrapped in a thick blanket - under which he was
stark naked!  Raising his head, he looked right into the closed eyes of a
dozing academic...BILL!...HIS FRIEND!  As his body jerked in surprise,
Dr. Bill awoke.  Smiling softly, he inclined his head and kissed the boy
gently on his forehead.  "It's alright, Shane.  You're safe.  I'm here.  No
one is going to hurt you.  Just rest for a moment while I get something."
Still dizzy, sleepy beyond belief, the redhead wasn't about to move out of
the large comfortable chair into which the professor had laid his
blanket-wrapped body.  Within minutes, the professor reappeared, carrying a
small tray.  Reclaiming his bundle, which he hugged tenderly, he slowly
helped the boy to sip some tea, accept a few spoonfuls of yogurt, and take
a few small cubes of bread and cheese from his fingers.  He did not rise
again for some time - not until the phone on his desk rang.  Shane
listened.  Dr. Bill appeared to be speaking with someone at St. Pat's,
assuring them that Shane was with him and safe.  Let him recover for a bit
and then he would speak personally with Fr. Tom.  Returning to the chair,
the professor quietly told Shane what he already suspected.  Brother John
had called in a widening search for the redhead; Father Tom had returned to
the rectory just in time to offer the 7:00 a.m. Mass.  Brother John was
relieved that all was well, would speak with Fr. Tom after Mass, and would
advise the young priest to give Shane some breathing room before speaking
with him.

"Now, young man, I am going to tuck you into bed upstairs and let you get a
little nap before doing anything else.  Is that ok with you?"  "Ok,
Dr. Bill," the youngster said softly and grinned.  "Can you stand?" his
host asked.  As the blanket fell from his shoulders onto the floor, Shane
managed to rise, but his legs began almost immediately to crumple.  Bill
caught him and lifted him up into his arms.  "I'm sorry to cause you so
much trouble," the redhead whispered and began softly to sob.  He was still
dizzy and somewhat disoriented.  "No problem, Shane - though you are so
damned heavy I can't believe it.  Where did you get all that muscle,
lummox!"  The boy snickered, whispering that he had gotten it in the
exercise room where the good professor had found him!  Not exactly true,
but close enough...  Upstairs, Bill laid him on the bed, loosened the
covers, and popped him underneath.  Shane reached up, put his arms around
the doctor's neck, and kissed him squarely on the mouth. Almost before he
was able to return the kiss and say, "I love you," Shane was asleep.

The boy slept a deep relaxed sleep for all of eleven hours.  During this
period, Dr. Bill spoke with Fr. Tom three times.  The first conversation
was almost perfunctory.  While deeply concerned, the young priest seemed
exhausted by his journey and focused on personally making sure that the
redhead was alright.  The second conversation, however, was quite a
different matter.  Some of the boy's clothing - and the long knife - had
been found in the Mary Chapel. With atypical directness, he asked if Shane
had tried to commit suicide.  "I honestly don't know," Dr. Bill had
replied, "but from what I saw when he arrived, it's entirely possible.
Please do me a favor, Father.  Check with your physician and see if a short
'cooling off' period might be advisable before he returns to St. Pat's.  If
both you and he think it is advisable, he is welcome to stay here for a few
days. Tomorrow is the very beginning of the Spring Break at UConn and I
would be able to watch him carefully.  What writing I have to do can be
done right here at home."  Fr. Tom thanked the academic and promised to get
back to him.  Fr. Tom's third call came at about 8:00 p.m.  With obvious
reluctance, he reported that the physician and his staff felt that such a
short break might be a good idea - as long as the young man concurred.  For
several minutes, Bill talked frankly with a fellow professional whom he had
come to like and respect.  He learned, for example, that Brother John had
talked at length with Tim and learned something of the destructive
happenings at Storrs - and of his friend's reactions on returning to
Sherburne.  Suddenly, he looked up to see a very sleepy, disheveled redhead
standing naked in the doorway of his library-office.  Motioning for him to
come on over, he finished the phone call and hung up.  At that very moment,
Shane dropped like a stone into his lap.  "God you're heavy," the professor
complained.  As the boy struggled to rise, his host put his arms around him
and dragged him back down. "I couldn't help but overhear much of what you
said, Dr. Bill," the youngster admitted.  "If I got it right, I would like
to stay with you for a few days.  Things are just over my head at home, and
I need a little while to get them sorted out.  Will you help me?"  "Do you
need to ask?" the professor replied with a grin.  The boy grinned up at him
impishly and said, "I had a dream about you last night.  I dreamt that I
kissed you, and you kissed me back and told me that you loved me."  "That,"
Bill replied, "was no dream; it happened."  "Did you mean it?" the boy
asked seriously.  "Yes, I meant it.  Did you?"  By way of an answer, the
redhead squirmed around in his lap until he could plant his elbow on the
chair arm, rise up, and kiss his mentor squarely on the lips.  The
professor embraced the youth and drew him into his chest.  As Shane felt
sobs wracking his friend's body, they sat there for several minutes without
moving.  Finally, the professor got himself together, helped Shane to rise,
slapped him on his muscular butt, and led the youth into the kitchen to be
fed and watered.

(Restoration)

After a light supper, Bill insisted that Shane return with him upstairs.
After sleeping eleven hours, it wasn't likely that he would quickly fall
asleep again, but at least he could rest, recover from an ordeal that had
lasted far too long, and prepare for a more active day tomorrow.  As one
might guess, the boy was not about to stay in his bedroom.  As a matter of
fact, he suddenly landed in the middle of the professor's bed with a wild
yell, clearly ready to play.  With a sigh, his host marked his place,
closed his book, and placed it on the night-stand.  "Come up here, monster,
and lie beside me.  Let's just relax for a few minutes," he murmured
kindly.  "Then it's off to sleep for both of us."  The mischievous look on
the boy's face suggested that he might have had another agenda in mind, but
he obediently pushed himself further up in the bed and laid his head on the
professor's thickly muscled chest.  "Man," Shane thought, "this guy's a
HUNK!"  At 33, the professor was all of that - light hair, a face that
could still appear boyish, wide shoulders, still a tight, narrow waist,
thighs that were nearly as smooth and tightly muscled as Shane's.  "On top
of all that," the lad thought, "he's so smart I can't believe it - and I
think he really likes me!"  Nuzzling the redhead's thick hair, Bill's
absentmindedly traced the shoulder and back muscles that lay just under the
clear, taut skin.  If human beings could purr...  Gradually, in order to
expose the top edge of his body to the hypnotic finger strokes, the
youngster turned so as to lie facing the professor.  The tracing continued
without comment.

 "You really do love me?" a very insecure voice asked.  "Yes, if I'd had a
son, I would have wanted him to be exactly like you.  He would have been
smart like you; he would have been kind like you - he would have been
breathtakingly beautiful like you."  The index finger never stopped
moving. Shane turned to face the wall in order that the professor might
stroke the other edge of his body.  "I wish you WERE my father, but if you
knew how fucked up I really am, you'd never touch me with a ten-foot pole!"
Bill reached over and kissed the teen on the back of his neck and lightly
caressed his hip and upper thigh.  "I just touched you, redhead - and it
wasn't with a pole," he whispered.  Bill knew that the youngster was
sobbing lightly, but said nothing.  Rather, he simply reached out and
dragged the heavy body just a little closer.  "Let me tell you what a piece
of crap I am and then, maybe..." the youth gasped through his tears.

The poison poured out of the boy's mouth for nearly an hour - every detail,
every story of disappointment, his use at Dave's hands...his failed attempt
to end the pain.  Eventually, it ended and the boy waited fearfully
(expectantly?) for the man's next words.  Dr. Bill grasped the boy's thick
upper arm and pulled him onto his back.  Without saying a word, his index
finger continued to trace Shane's heavy pecs, his abs, the distended veins
on his lower stomach.  The redhead was breathing heavily by now - his head
thrown back on the pillow, his mouth open and gasping for air.  As his
finger paused at the base of the youth's rock-hard, precum slicked cock,
his mouth covered the boy's, his tongue probing, searching.  His finger
began its journey up the thick, pulsing pillar, pausing at tendons, heavy
veins, the rim of his glans. Glazed by the redhead's flowing precum, it
played with the tissue of the lad's frenulum before sensually circling the
glans and playing with the mouth of the urethra.

"I've been touching you for quite a while, Shane," the words finally came.
As the professor looked directly down into the redhead's eyes, he asked,
"Do you still think that I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole if I
knew...everything?  Maybe, I haven't touched you enough to prove that it
makes no difference to me."  With that he covered the boy's cock with his
mouth and continued until the youth exploded in an orgasm that shook his
body to the core and sent waves of cum into his mentor.  "You really don't
care?" the redhead gasped as he regained control of his mind and body.
"Yes, I do care...very much," Bill replied.  "If you want it that way, you
are my son, my beloved son.  Pieces of paper - legal agreements - have
never been my thing.  Where you live...what you become...is up to you - but
I will be here for you your whole life through.  I shall love and aid you
with everything I am.  All I ask is your love and your willingness to trust
me and work with me."

"I want it that way," Shane breathed through his tears.  "I love
you...dad."  With that he threw a muscled leg over the professor's body,
slid on top of him, and took him on the most fantastic journey of his life,
a journey in which the lonely, unfulfilled man found that he, too, was no
longer alone.


(To Be Continued)