Date: Mon, 20 Oct 2014 11:06:45 -0700 From: Aihu Fist Subject: Shackled Love in Brazil: The Sequel Part 2 SHACKLED LOVE IN BRAZIL PART II by Aihu Fist chapter 2 The big black man, called Nelson, got onto his feet and looked at the white body which he had just conquered. Johnny did not move a finger. We do not know whether he was pretending to be asleep or if he acted like it so that the negro would leave him alone. The scene after battle would have been inspirational for a man like Caravaggio; Nelson, as a black dragon who had slain David. As if he read my thoughts, Nelson placed his heavy foot triumphantly on Johnny's back and imagined himself the proud killer of a British soldier during the Zulu wars, and as if to convince himself that he actually `killed' the soldier, he traced his foot backwards, letting the heel of it climb a kerb of soft spongy flesh which parted as soon as the heel descended the tussock, and ended on its side nearly crushing the boy's nuts. His toes anchored themselves in the wet anus. Yes, this was the place of victory, Nelson thought while he rubbed the hole, which was still soft and moist. Nelson smiled, for it was barely a year ago when he had escaped prison, then most infamous in Brazil, called carandiru (the TupĂ­ name of a very tiny but dangerous fish from the Amazon river). The place had only space for 1500 inmates, but there were 4000 at the time he was there. He had learned the hard way to survive. He had been convicted for rape of a thirteen year old when he was barely four years older than his victim. Nelson knew he had been unfortunate to have raped a kid on his own birthday. His friends, who were always four to five years his junior, and able to stay away from his clutches, decided to give him a nice birthday present. Nelson had often teased them, when they were alone on the beach or in the wood, where they had their tree house, that if he wanted to, he could grab anyone of them and fuck one. The reason why he said that was that they always begged him for a lesson in how to get laid. Nelson repeatedly said that one of them could play the girl and he would play the boy who would fuck her. That caused lots of boys to giggle sheepishly; they never dared to tell him in the face that they were a bit wary of him. In order to kill two birds with one stone, they thought they'd call his bluff with a boy who was the laughing stock at school, because of his Nancy demeanour. Surely If he ´d fuck that boy then he would not dream of fucking them, they presumed. Nelson went down memory lane for a few more minutes. The boys were a bunch of bullies at school and had managed to bring their victim up to a tree house they had built together. It was his birthday and that was the day they had chosen to get the instruction in sex with the opposite gender. They found Nelson in the garage where he worked as an apprentice. It was a Wednesday, he recalled, he had the afternoon off. The garage closed after 2pm and the kids had been waiting for him around the corner. "Hey Blackie (his nickname and he did not mind it), we got something for you. Come with us, we got a present for your birthday." They jumped on their BMXs and rode fast to the wood, which was half a kilometre away from school and the garage. So he happily tagged along on his moped. Nelson had forgotten about his own birthday; in his mind he was still the twelve year old and the only friends he made were from around that age group, he could not relate to adults, let alone his own age. Nelson hadn't had much of an education and was basically an illiterate. He had grown up far away from schools and before long he ended up working in the garage. The owner who was a negro too had always been very mean to Nelson. If Nelson was caught doing something wrong he would beat the shit out of him with his belt but he had his mum to run to for cover. She'd come over and rap the owner about the abuse. She overprotected him, one could argue. She was the only one who cared, though. When Nelson climbed the ladder of the tree house, the kids, who were three gorgeous ones in their early teens, began to sing HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Only then it dawned on him that there was something in store for him. He hesitated and became aware of the act he had played for so many years. He realised they looked up to him, which was not a surprise as after all he was four years their senior and could teach them a thing or two. So often they had asked him why he had no girlfriend yet. He always brushed the questions off by saying that he had not found the right one yet, or he was too tired from work to run after them, or he had not enough money to spend on them. They then replied they would find him one that would not ask for presents, but one that would allow him to kiss her or fondle her. Maybe that day had come. His throat dried up instantly. He was not the macho type but only played that part to keep the pressure at bay. When he strolled through town with in their company and saw some chicks he would whistle at them just to impress the kids. Deep down in his heart he yearned for the boys's bodies. In point of fact, in his imagination, in bed, he undressed each and one of them. He feverishly masturbated over with the visions of stealing their cherry. Once they went swimming in the municipal pool and he got hold of a pair of undies which he had preserved like a treasure until this day. He kept in a plastic bag so that the urine smell would not never fade. Nelson, looked down and yelled, "Thanks kids, that is really sweet of you, I hope it is a nice present, you bought me. If not, some of you will be my most cherished present, you hear?" The kids had called his bluff and he was about to find out the minute he stuck his head through the entrance, which was a manhole size opening in the tree house floor. The ladder to it was made from branches and not really stable at all, especially for Nelson who weighed about fifty kilograms. Right there, in front of him, sat a blonde white girl in front of the middle post. Her legs were closely knit together like decent girls sit, but most probably because he was told not to give away that he was a boy. "Don't show him your package yet." Jerome had been briefed him into details about how to present himself to Nelson. "Come on, Blackie, move your butt, `open up' your present!" The boys hollered below his bum. "Yee gods, who is this???" He could not believe his eyes. He trembled on his legs and hesitated to make the next step and get onto the floor. The `girl' stared at him like a doe who knows that it is her last minute in life. "OK, OK." Nelson blurted and shot up through the `manhole' to sit close to his present. The boys grew impatient, they too wanted to move into the house and enjoy the `unwrapping' of the gift, and hopefully a bit more than that would follow. It was impossible to find a schoolgirl alone, girls always went home in groups. But silly Jerome, with his long flax blond hair, his long eyelashes reminded everyone of a pretty girl. They knew Jerome lived near the wood where they had built their tree house. Jerome always wanted to be part of the gang and play with them. Despite them teasing and bullying throughout the year, Jerome always hoped for the improvement of the relationship with his peers. How did this all start? The boys had brainstormed about what to buy for Nelson's birthday. Buying? None of them had any money to spend. "He likes girls but he never had one," Indio explained. "True, and his favourites, he said, are blonde ones." Julius added. "Well, no girl is going to offer herself to him just like that. Those blonde tarts look down their noses at a negro or coloured boys like us." Monito snapped. Monito knew what he was talking about. He was the clown of the class, his face grimaced like a monkey when he needed the attention badly. Everyone knew about his antics. His real name was Jair, but Monito which was not meant as a racist slur at all, was much closer to his real character . There were four blonde chicks in the class and none was available. Then one day at the gym Monito had an idea, a grand idea. It was simple and easy to do, he thought. He and the classmates had just finished a football match and were lining up for the showers that day, all sweaty and exhausted, some on the bench waiting for their turn. Soon with the steam, from the hot water, turned the communal bathroom into a sauna. Most of the showers had no doors. Monito got up and went looking to see if there was one vacant. The teacher was not there, so it was quite chaotic and anarchistic an atmosphere in which all boys talked at the top of their voices, told jokes or jousted with one another. In that raucous ambiance he stopped by a shower cubicle where a thin figure, white as the first snowflakes, was sopping himself, the water running over his tousled hair. Seen from the back it was breathtaking. It looked like a genie taking a bath in a waterfall. Monito could not deny the arousal he felt within. His boner fought off the towel that covered it. He recalled his instant thoughts, of it was a nice chick.The shock was big when he realised there were no girls taking showers in here. Good grief, then that must be our...J J Jerooome! He hurriedly ran back to his mates, Julius and Indio and asked them to come an have a look for themselves. Of course they walked casually to the shower and queued up. They did not want to create the impression that they were faggots. Slowly Jerome turned round. it was still foggy in the shower and his ghostly face pierced through the shroud of water that gushed and gushed, now descending and covering his private parts. "He will do," Julius whispered. "The perfect birthday gift for Blackie." Indio only snickered. Jerome stood immobile when he saw all three lining up in front of the shower. he had no idea why they were together, he thought hard of what they had in mind for him, looking at him like that. Surely they would make him trip or push him around when he came out of it, or pull his hair and call him a poof, as usual. What would he find in his schoolbag or in his locker? He was worried, but he would not let them notice it. He stepped out of the fog, took his towel from the peg on the tiled wall and scooted past them. The threesome looked at him in a way as if he was something they had never seen before, a new pupil. Once he had wrapped the towel around his hips Monito knew he would fit the bill. Jerome, on the other hand, was pleasantly surprised by their apathy. Nothing had happened to him, they let him be. The next day when walking home alone on a dirt track the threesome caught up with him. "Hey Jerome, wait up." Indio, who was a real Kairriri-Xoco Indio, but born in the city of Maceio, had a name that was too difficult to remember. He winked at his two friends and piped, "Come on move your arses, we must catch up with him and get him over to our treehouse. Tell him that we want him in our group, swear an oath of everlasting friendship through thick and thin!" Jerome stopped because Indio blocked his vision by standing in front of him, the two others stood by his sides. "Please don't hurt me, boys. I need to help my granny, she is very ill, you know." "Oh, we feel sorry for you, Jerome. Really we do." Julius spoke. The latter was the boss of the little gang. He could shed a few kilos which would enhance his looks, it was obvious that he had a few negro genes in his bloodline. He was taller that the rest and meaner too, if he wanted too. Curly hair, a black tuft above his upper lip and mumbled more than he talked. "Listen we have a great idea; we want you to be our friend and therefore we have decided to invite you to our tree house, which you wanted to see for ages. What do you say?" Jerome's eyes shone with pride and joy. They made friends, this was the end of bullying him. He believed them but said, "Thank you for this invite, but my granny needs me now." "OK," Monito spoke and tugged at his crotch. "Tomorrow we meet again here and from there we will walk together to the house, our house in the trees." Indeed, the day after at exact the same time and place they met and guided Jerome to a big tree, a tree four adults could stand around holding hands. Jerome smiled from ear to ear when he climbed the ladder first. He felt honoured and proud! The others followed suit. The wooden floor had cushions and some cutlery strewn around. The floor was big enough for four adults to sit on, so with their lithe and thin bodies the teens had ample space. "Our fathers helped to build this platform around this tree," Julius explained. It looked like an Indian banyan tree but it was in fact a mango tree. Everywhere from the branches hung those fruits, free to pick and eat. "OK, before we chat like friends we must swear loyalty to each other and secrecy about anything that may and will happen in this house. No adult, not even our parents are to know what we do here," Julius explained. "Hold up your hands and let me spit in each hand palm. Every drop of my spit you must swallow and say `I swear'. "I swear, they said one after another." But Jerome did not like the idea, however, like he other two he licked up Julius' saliva and swallowed it. Julius was definitely the youngest godfather the world has known. He ordered them around like a real Corleone. "Monito, hurry up, bring on the whiskey and four glasses." "We need to celebrate this new friendship and the arrival of a new member." He filled up the glasses and ordered a toast. Jerome had never tasted a drop of alcohol in his entire young life, and now they were going to spoon feed him whiskey like it was some fizzy drink? He set the glass to his lips, smelled it and nearly gagged. The three washed it down through their gullets and next three pairs of eyes looked intently at him to see if would emulate the example. Jerome closed his eyes and swallowed fast. He had stood the test of manhood, he thought. The threesome gave him a big hand and patted him on the back. Next, they cracked jokes, even Jerome knew a joke or two that they enjoyed. Monito thought that Jerome, despite being a faggot in his eyes, was not so bad a boy at all, but that he intended to keep to himself. They all wore school black shoes, white socks, a pair of marine blue shorts, matching a blazer of the same colour over a white short sleeve shirt, and a striped tie. It was definitely inspired by British school uniforms. No one but Julius had hair on their legs. Probably none but Julius again, had any pubic hair growth whatsoever! Here they were, acting like adults with some Machiavellian ideas in mind for their new member! Jerome like the rest got a second and third glass, and before long it had gotten to their heads, but not as much as for Jerome, who was about to pass out. In simple language he was drunk.