Date: Wed, 19 Dec 2007 21:37:02 -0800 (PST)
From: Matthew Templar <matemp1148@yahoo.com>
Subject: One Gift to Give - Chapter 4

	My gift, the following tale, to those that have shown their
appreciation for my other story, is certainly a work of fiction.  Even if
the manuscripts (unearthed long ago, translated and sent to me by a great
uncle) from which this story could have been taken, were true, it would
still be impossible to believe.
	As a gift to you, it is yours to do as you please.  But, let me
know if you enjoy it.
	My very good friend, and who is high on my list of those to whom
this is a gift, Dwight Wilson, has shown me up again by his quality of
editing.  I am blessed, and the story is better because of him.  Please
check out two fine works of art by him.  Read 'New Horizon's' in
'Authority' (though it is about the saving of those young one's oppressed
by authority) and Brad's Idol', in 'Adult/Youth'; the life and love of a
boy learning . . . well, you see.


	This work is dedicated to those who, having enjoyed the story they
just read here in Nifty, responded by telling the author.  We all
appreciate the feedback.  Thank you!
			Matthew Templar

                             * * * * *
                             * * * * *

	One Gift to Give -

	The Fourth Chapter - He Was Made Ready For His Fate

	He knew he dare not look up but he could not imagine what animal
could make such vicious sounds.  Even more, he realized that he still sat
there, unharmed, he thought, waiting for the ugly men to reach out barely a
few lengths of short arms to grab him up and take him away.

	"SNORT!  Pf-f-f-f!"

	His tiny mind reeled to think that it could not be possible.  His
heart began to warm and his fear was quickly being replaced with a joy that
his thoughts just then, his day dream was no longer a dream.  For only his
golden steed could make such a sound, and only then if ridden upon by his
mighty silver-dressed warrior.  He smiled as he raised his head to see his
glorious protectors before him.

	Instead, he was greeted by sand that had turned bright red all
around him.  But, even worse, as he looked about in front of him, he knew
that the two rocks before him, that weren't there before, when he had
looked for his apple, on further inspection, took the shape of the heads of
the two ugly ogres that were to be his next nightmare.  Surely, the logs so
close to those heads were the rest of those men, no longer a threat to him
or the others they had surely set upon in times past.  He shuddered as he
saw the last of life leave their bodies in the form of two wisps of steam.
A chill went through his spine as he considered what might have happened.
He was more than thankful that his eyes were blinded by his knees during
the bloody conflict and would have preferred that they had remained
sightless for a little while longer.

	"SNORT!!"  Stomp. Stomp!

	He jumped to his feet and turned as quickly as the wind to see the
head of the largest horse ever!  It could be that its proximity of a hand's
width from his eyes made the animal seem so huge.  He stepped back in fear
and awe only to trip over a warm rock and land in a pool of the red goo
that was a few breathes before, in a living being.  His head fell back and
lay on the wet log of crimson, quickly becoming sticky and smelly already.

	"Oh!  Foolish child!  Now look at you.  You will carry half of the
desert and most of that blood with you to the camp, stuck to your skinny
bottom and even scrawnier back.  I'll not have you ride with me as such.
Clean shall you be or walk you shall."

	The boy heard only sounds that had no meaning to his ears.  Much
like the words of his friends on this path just hours before, the words
were not from his neighborhood, and not likely from anywhere within several
days walking.  That was the farthest that the small one could imagine.
Surely there was no land beyond where the sun rested at night, for didn't
its passage take it under their desert to awaken again each morning in the
east?

	The voice was loud and bold and gave the boy no assurance of his
safety, even less when he saw the point of a curved sword before his small
nose.  It moved down his side to the ground beside him; then slapped his
tiny cheek upon which he sat, telling him to move it at once.  His startled
mind told his frozen body to jump up and be respectful to his steed and
rider as quickly as he could.  He was relieved that he did that so quickly,
until the sword returned to face him.

	"Ha!  Your rags must go, you pint-sized chick.  No bigger than a
mouse I think, and a young one for sure.  But you will be warm in an
instant, after that blood is off of you and you are onto my friend here,
upon whom we will ride."  His horse understood, giving his own snort to
show he agreed that even such a small ant was not going to crust up his
mane or back with the vile remains of their slaughtered enemy.

	The boy held his breath and closed his eyes when he saw the great
sharp steel move behind him.  Could this be my last breath, he thought,
though that fate was so unlike his dream.

	WHOOSH!!

      He was colder now than ever!  How could even the most mighty of
sabers take away the little bit of heat left on his body.  He felt where
the heat should have been and found only skin; his thankfully, but as bare
as it could be and shivering against the icy wind.  He heard a mighty yell
of magnificent authority just before he was thrown into the sky!

	"Hah!  Not to worry for I have you now, my pretty child.  You are
safe from your avengers and on your way to a better place indeed.  Would
that you could understand my meaning so that your thoughts could think only
of safe places and tasty delights, instead of such vile evil as in this
ugly land.  We go, small one, and my mount takes us away."

	A huge arm came around the boy as he was plunked into a lap almost
as large as his wonderful host; his first savior from so long ago, it
seemed.  Somehow, the sound of a mighty laugh and the warmth that he
cherished set his heart free again to hope for sweeter times.  He couldn't
help but giggle excitedly as he seemed to feel the sand shake beneath him
and his two new saviors.  It was as though it moved out of the way of the
greatest steed and his mighty warrior.  He giggled again when he thought of
the sand also moving for him too.

	"Hah, hah, ha!  Are you there my trinket?  For you are so small and
light that I should have placed you in my saddle's pocket.  Hah!  But I
feel your warmth and I feel your soft skin in my rough arm and thigh.  You
are to be cherished by those that I protect, my ant.  You will be of
greatest value to your new owners.  Now I will see to your protection until
they see fit to devise a new life for you and for their pleasure."

	Not knowing the words, the small, naked boy could only hear the
laugh in the deep voice and feel the warmth that he sat on and was held
tight around him.  He was no longer afraid.  This must be the journey that
his friend spoke of when leaving his happy cavern.  So he laughed to
himself at his good fortune and enjoyed a great ride like he could never
have imagined, well, that he could never imagine coming true!

	They rode toward the river.  They were soon joined by another
horseman, though he was somewhat behind them and off to one side.  They
came up over a huge sand dune and saw a small encampment before them,
though, to the boy, it seemed wonderfully huge and magnificent.  His strong
protector said something that he couldn't understand of course, which made
the horse run even harder and faster than before.  As nice as it was and
exciting too, his skinny little cheeks were beginning to get a little sore.
The warmth of the man was helping to keep him from freezing but he was also
getting tired.

	Soon, they rode into a grouping of many tents.  Not just like the
ones he had seen in his market place, but tents that could cover his
family's hovel and the one beside it, too.  They were mostly of plain
colors but some were striped boldly and some were colored gaily, to his
eyes that is.  And there were many people there, mostly men but some women
too.  He looked around hard to see other boys but none were to be seen.  It
might be their bedtime, he mused, as he realized he was up very late
indeed.  There were big barrels from which fire arose to heat the great
area.  One would be hard to imagine that it was cold on the other side of
the tents.

	"Whoa, my steed.  You have done well again.  My masters will be
pleased that you spared so young and beautiful a boy for their pleasure.
We will hand him over to the guards and find our pad upon which to rest our
tired bones.  What say you friend and loyal servant?"

	The littlest one could only imagine what the man had said to him,
until the horse rose up on its hind legs and let out the loudest whinny of
all.  Then the boy supposed that the words were meant for this gallant
horse and not him.  Still, it was very exciting indeed.  A smile began to
build upon his face, but. . . .!

	The man fairly threw him down off of his leg.  Before he could
scream at the pain of falling so far, he was caught by another man on the
ground.  He was so thankful for this new man's presence, until . . .!

	"Oh!  What vile manner of stench is this that you have brought us?
Have you no regard for a man's senses?  Woman!  Take this skinny goat, who
is too small to make a meal of, and scrub him until he shines!  And if he
won't shine, throw him in the river to pollute it, not our noses.  Whew!
How could you?  Now I am destined for that same bath house before you have
me discarded like this boy will soon be when he has served his purpose.
Go!"

	The new man didn't seem, to the young one, as nice as his savior
had been.  It seemed he went on and on about something that made him angry.
He scrunched up his nose and snorted loudly like his steed had done.
Still, it was late and he really did smell.  The meaning of the man's words
was easy to understand for the wee one, for the man had made such a face
that, had he not been terrified of his loud bark, the boy would surely have
laughed at the sight.

	A woman appeared then, older than his mother and in the same rags
that he was accustomed to mothers wearing.  But she had a scowl on her face
as she grabbed his thin arm and dragged him toward the last of the tents
and somewhat away from the largest of the warming fires.  His skin was a
thousand little bumps as he began to feel the cold wind entering the
walkways of this end of the camp.  'Surely this was no way to treat their
guest,' he thought.  'My last host was far more gracious than these.'

	"ArAd!" the woman yelled.  "I know you are among us and I need you;
forgive me Allah, for admitting such a thing.  Come to me now and I will
let you have a place in the tents of the horse keepers.  I will even get
you, ArAd, some sustenance, but only if you are within reach this very
second!"

	Oh!  Her voice was not the poetic lilt of his mother's.  It was
more that of the crow he had heard once, or the angry camel.  He had no
time to chuckle for he was whipped around to the front of this woman and
fell to the sand.  His arm hurt and his knee was somewhat raw where it had
slid on the course sand.  He made his move to stand up when he was attacked
by a mass of tangled rags topped by a worse tangle of hair.  This sight he
only noticed as he again tried to stand where he was thrown; but he also
noticed that it was accompanied by a smell worse than his at that
moment. Well, maybe not this time.

	"I have come to you, my aunt.  Do not beat me for my quest is here,
with you, to protect the masters.  How could I do that if I had stayed in
Persia with the sissies?  And you have finally come to your senses and
realized that there is a task that I can command that is like no other.  I
am at your . . . oh my stars!  What is that smell, my aunt?  Have I died
and not known it these many days?  Oh, Allah, protect my nose."

	"Enough, impertinent boy.  I will make use of you until your mother
finds out what you have done to her.  Then you will be skinned and left
behind like you should have been years ago."

	There was no understanding for the small one whose scent grew
around him, but the smirk on the one beside him told of his love for this
woman and the game he played without her knowing.  He had seen such a devil
in a boy that was older than he in their village.  He ended most evenings
with more red on his skin than golden bronze; his reward for his evil ideas
and sly ways.

	"And there is your task, ArAd.  Wash that runt until he smells of
the flowered soaps in the tents of the masters.  Waste no effort or you
will both be boiled for our breakfast on the morrow; mark my words."

	"Wash!  Wash as in bath?  What crime have I committed that I should
be doomed to such a punishment; I, of such pure intentions, and . . ."

	"ArAd, I am tired!  Go and do this and live or don't.  It is your
choice.  But it must be better than me telling your mother of the games you
play in the tents of the riders at night.  Are my words getting through
that thick mass of snarls called hair?"

	"Oh, yes ma'am!  Right now, ma'am, for we would not want my loving
mother to know that I wait until night has come to clean the rooms of the
riders, would we?"

	The wee one was tired and very confused by all this jibberish, but
he could tell by the way the boy was turning red that it was not going well
for him.  Just then, the boy of a few years more than his ten, grabbed his
sore arm and led him through the tents to one that was on fire!  And they
were going into it!  Smoke was rising from its vents, and he was being led
to be roasted!  He planted his feet to keep from going any farther.

	The older boy noticed that his load had suddenly gotten harder to
pull, but not so much that it slowed him from entering the warmest, wettest
tent in all of this desert, the bath house; the place he had yet to see the
inside of.  He could only imagine his skin peeling loose as he let water
actually touch his wrinkled skin.  Wrinkled from the lack of washing and
the onset of oils and greases used by men to keep their bodies moist.  It
was of no help that he was constantly on the ground, rolling in whatever
lay there with him.  He surprised himself as he began to suppose that it
might be within his scope of reason to rid himself of at least one layer of
his ointments.

	A huge billow of the fearful smoke encircled the little one as they
entered the burning tent.  Ha!  It was only steam and a sweet smelling
steam as well.  His relief was immediately noticed by the larger boy and he
was pulled up to a wall that felt warm to the touch of his bare back and
rump.

	It was only then that ArAd had noticed his burden.  A boy as small
as any he had seen these many weeks, as the caravan progressed upon their
master's quest.  But his face was as fine and well made as the prettiest
maiden that he could ever long for.  He had told himself many times that
the nights in the tents with those men of great need were only needed to
supplement his need for nutrition.  There was certainly no interest in the
strong, muscled men of such variety and flavor that . . . What was he
staring at, this boy, no larger than a lump of flesh and bones.  He was
well put together and his little, ha ha!  The little one, staring into the
bigger boy's clothes was beginning to let a bud of flesh peek out between
his skinny legs.  He, himself, was getting warm and thus excited at the
sight of . . .

	The small one was enraptured by the growing rags before him.  As he
noticed the movement that was about halfway up the raggedy body of this boy
who held him at arms length now, he could see a pink and brown stick making
its way into the soft light of this warm heaven.  Having no knowledge that
would lead the boy to any discretion, he moved the dirty rags aside to view
his new captor's most essential equipment.  He didn't realize that his arm
was released as he reached to pet this soft endowment offered to him, it
seemed.  He thought nothing of parting the cloth, even pushing it away so
that his eyes could take in the rest of the young muscled form that his
eyes saw for the first time.  He even looked as high as the tits of this
smooth young man before him, and reached up to touch each with his extended
fingers.

	"Oh God above, you are a vixen in disguise, and I love your hands
and your touch.  But, oh, above all that is making me drip precious life
from my spigot, get into the water to remove that horrific stench!"  And he
swooped the light one up to fling him into the water behind them.  Hearing
much sputtering and coughing he realized his mistake quickly, and jumped up
the ladder to throw himself into the tub to rescue a drowning waif.

	"I come for you, small one.  I am sorry for my lack of insight.
But I will make it up to you; this I promise."  He was laughing as he
pulled a coughing boy to the surface, only to see big eyes and the makings
for a fine grin begin to take shape on the pink, warm face.

	"My joy is almost complete, knowing you are well," he said, pulling
the wet small boy into his arms and squeezing out any remaining water.
This caused the little one to laugh.  Then he licked at the neck close to
him in a loving way, but funny too.  "What do you do down there my precious
one?  You make me tingle.  It will be hard to give you up to the lust of
our lords.  I would gladly replace you to feel such wonders between my
legs.  I can only hope that you are not ripped by their size and strength,
for surely they are the mightiest and largest of all."

	With that, they slipped back into the water and, using the finest
soap the little one had ever felt or smelled, they washed.  He thrilled to
the feel of his new friend's hands on every part of him.  He was even more
excited by such a big boy, whose handle of pleasure, as he had recently
learned, must give the boy even more joy.  So it was in his thoughts to do
just that, as his hands worked his way from a hard, bumpy stomach,
following a delicate line of new hair to his goal.  None of his new
brothers had hair there as did this funny loud boy, in whose hands, he made
loving strokes and fondles.  But before he could grasp his ultimate goal of
good feelings, his washer was the first to find the little spike that had
provided so many wonderful sensations for the small one.  With a
concentrated effort, enduring the sensations racing through his small body,
he continued his task until he reached that large fleshy post at the end of
the growing nest of silky hair and they both gasped in pleasure.

	"Oh, you know of such manly delights, my fair beauty.  Then it is
my duty and joy to pass you over the brink as never before, I trust."  The
words meant nothing to the one so small, but the look of fun and ambition
in this cute, older boy's eyes told him of his bather's goal, or at least
he hoped as much.  Quick, but smooth, strong, hands soon had him whimpering
at the wonderful feelings that were to overtake his very core very quickly,
it seemed.  His hands and body went limp and he lost his grip on the prize
he had sought of living pleasure, just the right size for his small hands
to hold.  He had been so cold and alone and now he could bask in the care
he was given by this one, a loving boy of some years his senior, but not so
many really.

	He tried to reach his partner's rod of smooth, hard flesh but was
pulled up to be placed on the side deck, where a head and mouth came
between his thin, hairless legs and engulfed his boyhood with sloppy wet
swirls and sucking.  An immediate gasp for the air he needed, filled the
tent and repeated often to sing out the joy he felt.  He could not last too
long before he gave in to the feelings that he knew were trying to burst
their way out and through his small body.  Then a new pleasure made his
eyes open into a set of eyes buried between his legs.  Two hands had
grabbed handfuls of flesh where he would sit upon and pulled the two mounds
apart.  Then a finger was swirling in delicate circles around his most
private of places.  He could not know such joy except for that which was
his gift to Naweed.  Now he knew the magnitude of its tender pleasure and
jumped at its inclusion into their love making.  Such was the feeling that
he felt his legs go limp, until that finger passed gently into the small
fold of wrinkled skin to touch his velvet insides, sending electric shocks
throughout his small being.  His legs went straight out and encircled the
back of his invader and closed tightly about the warm flesh there, pulling
the older boy into him as close as possible, never wanting such vivid
spikes of feelings to end.

	He heard chuckling from between his legs, but it was lost in the
rumbling that he felt building from deep in his core.  He knew that this
would be his last pleasure, so great was this prelude to his exploding
soon.  Then, wave after wonderful wave of the strongest good feelings swept
through him, making his body convulse and throw him every which way.  Such
violent shaking pushed the invading appendage farther into his tunnel,
sending even more shocks into him, so strong they were on the brink of
pain.  He feared and hoped as one that he would never come down again; but
alas, the feeling dissolved to a glorious glow throughout his soul and
body.

	The larger boy rose from his work of loving and grinned down at the
little body before him.  He had so enjoyed the pleasures he had shared that
he was straining within his own flesh for the release he desperately
needed.  Small eyes opened to see his smile and returned a grin of weak
pleasure.

	There were no clothes left on the young man after he had leaped
into the pool to save his precious handful of love.  His rags had all but
disintegrated in the hot water and lay in small pieces at the bottom of the
pool.  He didn't care.  He saw something in this boy.  Could it have been
in that small grin or was there something deeper, unseen, that pulled him
toward this child, so innocent.  He shook away his thoughts and reached out
to hold his small armful.

	As he was lovingly scooped up by his newest lover and carried up
onto the narrow deck around the bath water, the young boy's body rubbed up
against the hardest post until it lodged between his legs.  He giggled as
he realized that it made a thin limb, coming out of the trunk of his older
boy, so that he could perch there.

	When the boy had settled on ArAd's hardened staff, he squeezed his
legs tightly and was rewarded with a great gasp from the wet boy in front
of him.  The small one could do nothing but lean in and, placing his hands
on either side of the now clean head, he pulled until he could reach the
deep red lips above him.  He kissed deeply, not knowing a reason not to.
Not even thinking that it may be unbecoming a young man to kiss another,
and naked at that.  These were all the thoughts of people who had shed
their innocence for the drudgery of becoming older and making rules against
things like love and deep friendship between anyone.  His thoughts were
only of giving his friend some of the flavor of what he had just been
enveloped in.  As his thoughts recalled the excitement he had felt in his
loins, he couldn't stop himself from a great, marvelous smile.

	When ArAd felt a change from the wonderful shapes of the lips
pressing to his, he could not think of the meaning for its cause.  He was
forced to stop and pull away from that glorious torture, that was so warm
and sensuous and, had it lasted but a few heart beats more, would have made
him scream out his passion as in an orgasm of great proportion.  But, alas,
it was not to be, for he had to see this sight that was unfolding before
him.

	As he pulled back to arm's length, he noticed that a glow began to
grow. It may well have been a reflection, he thought.  With it came a
warmth, no hotter, that consumed his being.  As he saw more of the boy, he
knew that it was his smile that had changed the shape of the little lips of
his young lover.  But how could it be, that as the smile grew, the feelings
he felt and the vision he saw captured every good nerve in his strong naked
body and turned them every which way, causing him to shudder and quake, to
gasp and moan, then look down as though the strange feeling in him had a
shape.  It quickly overcame him as he felt every fiber being rubbed and
caressed tenderly yet with hard, driving passion that made his explosion
completely overwhelming.  Time must have passed into another day, he
thought, as he came down from the soaring heights of his orgasm, falling
onto the boy on the deck.  His eyes had closed at some time and he strained
to see what the gods had given him as his final resting place, so wonderful
did he feel.

	There, before him, still somehow in his own arms, rested his wee
one, his cherished boy, so lovely to caste eyes on and . . .Ha! so covered
in the life juices that were called out of this captive slave to the love
of this boy.  He was a marvelous sight, with strings of pearlish liquid
splashed all over his head and neck.  The older one laughed as the little
tongue before him reached out of its warm home to sweep up some of the
precious potion and take it with him to taste its sweet nectar.  As he
enjoyed the efforts of his young one to taste his spent seed, he scooped
some and helped to place it near so it was consumed with vigor by the
small, wet tongue.  They were both laughing at their antics when they heard
the flap of the tent being pulled back, and felt a cool wind enter with
. . . .

	"Hark, boy!  Do you have the runt clean or was it not possible?"
Not a happy person, was she.  Maybe it was later than she would like to
have been up and caring for such a precious one.  "Answer me, ArAd!  Is he
ready for his master's desire or is he to be tossed into the river to waste
and sink where he will be food for whatever lurks there?"

	The boy gasped when he heard of the little one's destiny and louder
when he'd heard the alternative.  He so desperately hated to relinquish the
fair one so small.  His mind was not used to such quick connivings, and he
gasped even more loudly at the sight coming around the end of the pool.

	The lady was in no mood for pleasantries and barely looked at two
of the finest examples of silky smooth boy flesh, each stretched over sinew
and bone that reflected a growing strength that only a boy can have.

	"Let us see how you've done here, misfit.  We'll see if there will
be a morsel of food for you in your bowl."  Her hand went to the little
one's thin arm and pulled him out of ArAd's arms with a jerk.  A cry came
from the boy and another from the older boy as he watched in horror.

	"Can't you let me do that, Auntie?  I will gladly dress him and see
that he is fit to be taken to the most high tents.  It would be an honor to
help you so.  In fact, I . . . "

	"Hush, boy!  No time for your jibberish," said the woman as she
pulled the boy to a stack of towels and, grabbing the top one, roughly
rubbed the boy down, or, at least, tried to.  "Quit your moving, you
scamp!" she barked, as he worked as hard as he was able to keep away from
the rough cloth.  "I'll tie you down if I have to, you know?  No skin off
me.  You'll soon be of no good to anyone, I'll testify.  Seen many your age
go in to come out in pieces if they were lucky.  You've not long on this
earth, skinny!"

	The young one could not understand any of her words but he
certainly could see her mean look and also notice that his newest lover was
scurrying around to try to get him away from her clutches.  Just then, her
fat arm came swinging around and hit the other boy solidly in his chest.
He flew backwards and landed with a 'Thud!' on the floor of the tent and
lay still, trying to catch his breath.  The little boy gasped and tears
started to descend from his eyes, his love was so strong for this boy who
was assailed for pursuit of the small one's safety.

	"Teach you to go against my demands, you low life.  Get out or
you'll be fodder for the horses in the morrow.  You have no say in this
one's future.  We, none of us do.  It's up to them that sit high and mighty
to get to some god awful land in the middle of who knows where."  She
grabbed the small, free arm as it began to go limp and picked up the boy to
inspect him closely.  She was actually touching him with her nose she held
him so close, and moved him around to inspect every pore and crack.  Yes,
even there.

	This act so unnerved the boy that he started laughing to himself,
despite his great fear.  His giggling caused him to shake, which made it
hard for her to hold the smooth child.  At one point she raised him, as
though she was about to shake him to stop when they looked in each other's
faces and he smiled a bit.  She blinked, startled and bellowed,

	"Oh bother, then!  If they don't like this morsel, they can
. . .they can . . . take it out on you!"  She was almost screaming now, and
threw the boy into the arms of the seated boy, who had been trying to
stand.  "While he may be a fine example of a nibble or two for our masters,
I'll not sacrifice my head should they be displeased.  You, ArAd, are of no
worth; less even than this boy.  You take him and take with him the
consequences.  Now, get to the stables and meet with your guides.  They
leave when you approach them and get meaner the longer they wait."  She
sneered the last of her words while crouching down to stare in the young
man's eyes, scaring him into a breathing fit, making it hard to run with
his charge, through the tent and out into the cold night.

               *     *     *     *

This ends the Fourth Chapter of One Gift To Give
I hope you have enjoyed it so far

To be continued with The Fifth Chapter - He Was Closer To Danger Than To
His Quest

               *     *     *     *

My friends,
Should I not be able to finish this by Christmas, may I say two things?
First, I will finish it and quickly.
Second, I wish each of you the warmest, kindest most loving holiday.  My
your dreams be fulfilled this coming year. . .no may they surpass your
dreams. 
Until then, a single word from this mess to wish you a happy

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