Prologue to “The Warrior – a Side Story to The Light – Antoine was first introduced to The Light in chapter 48. By chapter 52 he had shared 'some' of his story with the Blake's and to his to-be-adopted-by mother, but not all of it was shared. This side-bar story will provide much of his background, why he has certain what we call 'hang ups', why he is ashamed to ask for help yet is ready and willing to help anyone else, why he's obscure, why he feels ashamed, why he feels guilty, and why he feels unworthy of unconditional love... and why he's afraid to share his 'secret'.

This series of chapters titled “The Warrior” has many graphic scenes. Some of those scenes will include intolerance, violence, and racial bigotry by using or depicting or implying explicit terms and actions.

Antoine is a sweet child through and through. He was made, however, tough by his father. You see, Antoine is truly a loyal, dedicated and loving individual that was made to do certain things. He did those, without question, to please his father and his mother... mainly his father though.

Antoine also has a very personal issue with his 'body image' (gee, that sounds so 80'ish). To him it is more than issue... as you'll find out in the next few chapters his issue is a great issue for his father, and is a source of ridicule and nonacceptance by Antoine himself, and by others.

I fell in love with this child while writing this story. I hope I've done him justice.

The Warrior – Part 1

Author's Note: “The Warrior” is a 6 chapter spin off of The Light. These chapters will be: 53A thru 53F. Its sole purpose is to provide a background for the character Antoine who will play an important role in later chapters. This side story is an important read since there is integration between three characters in The Light.

Be well.

© Joe Writer Man

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“Swallow it down, poco. That’s right. Wash it down with this.” My father Armando said handing me a glass of water. His voice left no room for debate or questioning or challenging. Besides, I would never debate my father out of my respect for him; he is always right, then again even if he were not right, not that he was ever wrong, I would never say so. He was not a man to be questioned or challenged

After swallowing 25 of cellophane wrapped tablets he and mother whisked me off to the airport. After we arrived and after they escorted me to the gate to depart from, he gave me instructions to not take a crap until after I had arrived, and had been met by a ‘friend’ of his.

After arriving in Singapore I was met by that friend of my father’s. When we got to his Mercedes, parking in the lot right next to the terminal, he gave me a bottle of a foreign looking liquid with a label that I did not understand because the label was written in a foreign language. He told me to drink it down very fast. I did as he told me to do. Its taste was acrid. I barely made it down before the urge to puke nearly overwhelmed me. He then gave me a sweet tasting heavy liquid which pretty much negated the horrific taste in my mouth.

“Sit down. Buckle up. Don’t say a word. Great danger stands before us. Do as I say. Let me do all of the talking.” The guy said in broken English. I did not recognize the accent.

Winding, whirling, up and down, left turn here, right turn there, straightway then we stopped at a checkpoint. The guy put his fingers over his mouth in such a way that now was the time to now to not say anything – not that we had said any words to this point because we had not. I sat like the toy soldier I was expected to be. He then scared me when he made the motion across his neck – I knew the message: stay quiet or you die.

I listened as he and a guard spoke in a language that I did not understand. The guard carefully looked into the car, eyed me intently then told the man I was riding with to get out of the car. The guard performed a detailed inspection of our vehicle. I became incredibly afraid when a mean dog was brought to our car. The guard told me to get out of the vehicle. The guy I was riding with nodded. Silently, I got out of the vehicle. When the dog finished smelling the car he came to me then began sniffing me intently. He dug his nose deep into my underwear and jeans covered butt. Satisfied, I guess, the dog then came around, growled a little growl then pushed his nose along the side of my penis and balls causing me to become erect beyond belief, and no I am not into dogs in that manner.

The dog then went to the guy who was driving our vehicle to perform the very same inspection to him. Satisfied, I’m not sure what he was satisfied with, the guard motioned the driver to continue his journey.

About half an hour later we turned into a block of row houses. Before we continued on, he pulled a towel out of the glove box then put it over my face, tied it tight, and told me to not pay attention to anything.

We drove around several times. I could tell we were driving in circles. My father had taught me to be aware of my surroundings. He taught me the same way this driver was driving me around. When we were stopped, we were 30 paces from where we had started. I remained silent though.

He reached over, unlocked my door then he got out and opened it from the outside. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, he took hold of me, turned me around 16½ times then unexpectedly lifted me up, tossed me around like a rag doll, turned me upside down then shook my head between his legs as he turned and twisted – I lost my sense of awareness. I was now at his mercy. I would tell my father of this, ask his advice on how to keep my awareness.

I was at his mercy now.

We walked 500 paces straight ahead, in a direction that I did not, could not recognize. He stopped then turned me around rapidly 18 times. I had now lost any sense of direction, had no awareness of where I was or where we were going. I became frightened which is something I do not feel very often.

We continued to walk then he guided me up four flights of stairs. The room or the hallway, yes it was a hallway, smelled musty, nasty – like stale cigarettes and booze, marijuana, then clearly that of a methamphetamine lab.

He rapped 8 times on a door on our right. 4 minutes later, the door was answered. Quickly, we were ushered inside then the door slammed shut. Its sonic boom like sound startled me. Now I was scared.

I was led 15 paces then sat down on a creakily, wobbly hard straight backed chair where I was pushed down into it. I heard footsteps that walked away from me. I was left alone while those two guys, then a third one said “check him out. If he lost our product then kill him.”

Now, despite all of my training, I was scared. But I remained still, quiet and relaxed. Footsteps were walking toward me then the person who was attached to those feet stood me up straight. He had me put my hands flat down on the table.

He began unbuttoning my shirt one by one until my chest was exposed. Next, he unbuttoned the faded jeans I was wearing then he zipped down my zipper. He took my shirt off then tossed it 13 paces to my right. It landed on a hollow box. I heard it.

My father told me this next part would happen. They pushed my jeans and underwear down to my feet then another guy took off my shoes, socks and then my jeans. They were laid by my feet not one pace away. My underwear was the next to go. I was standing in front of them totally naked and cold. I maintained my composure adequately.

I nearly collapsed when the guy who was undressing me grasped my penis in his hand then squeezed roughly. My dick responded accordingly. The guy then rapidly talked in a language I did not understand, but as he continued to squeeze me, his intent was very clear. His purpose had gotten off of the beaten path, as the saying goes, a path which he would never have the opportunity to regret. My senses became keenly and acutely aware. My body began tensing, my breathing remained evenly spaced and my heartbeat sped up a few paces but not noticeably so to the outside world. The little downy hairs on the back of neck, on my arms, and yes the two that defined my pubes were all standing straight up.

Just before I was ready to spill my seed he stopped then whispered something in my ear that I did not understand because of the language barrier between us. His breath, stale beer, garlic and other flavors I did not recognize just about stimulated me to the point of tossing my cookies. Nevertheless, I was pleased by the way my maleness softened completely.

More whispering, more conversation between the three guys until they stopped speaking. I then heard the snap of surgical gloves. At that point one of the guys took hold of me then led me to lie on the table flat on my back 3 paces away. Another guy took a hold of my ankles then raised my legs straight up in the air. He put my knees into my chest, completely exposing my ass to whatever was going to happen next. My father told me of this, to not worry, that they were going to remove from me the packets that I had swallowed. My Sensei had taught me relaxation techniques only because he knew what I would be doing as soon as I turned 13 years old.

I had turned 13 just late last week, on Thursday.

I was not prepared for what happened next, but still, my senses were on high overload, I was very keenly aware of what was happening at the same time.

I heard pants being unzipped and dropped to the floor. I tensed up. My breathing became calm and rhythmical. I felt pulsations in my head just in front of my ears.

The guy roughly separated my legs then grabbed the front of my thighs with tremendous strength and pulled me to him. Still I remained motionless until he leaned over me and pressed his dick against the place where I poop at. He pushed very hard.

That was the very last thing he ever did. Very quickly I scissored my legs around his head... I next heard his body hit the floor after a crunching of bones that assured me he was out of commission.

The guy who had drove me here said “Good poco. That man, he held gun on me. You are good boy, very strong. We get this over. We go then.”

“One minute please.” I said then with great care and precision squatted down over the guy who tried to defile me and dropped a nice long one onto his face.

“Let’s go. I am ready.” I said grinning widely. He just shook his head all the while smiling. “Come on poco, let’s get this finished.”

I got back up on the table. He put my feet into stirrups but did not tie the straps. I knew what to do. My stomach was cramping up now so when he put the pan underneath my cheeks I knew what to do and welcomed relief. I bore down on my bowels with all of my strength my churning stomach could send. Once, twice, three times and then on the fourth effort a torrent of solid and liquid material went splattering into the pan. As the cramping peaked out I went into total bear down mode. I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head yet I could not stop until it was ready to so. Out came several pieces of solid material, pieces I knew had to be product as they were very, very firm not at all like normal stuff that leaves my body from that direction.

When I felt finished and empty the third guy became belligerent by pushing hard on my stomach. The driver guy stopped him then told me that only 17 packets were delivered so he would have to irrigate the rest of them out. A large tube was then inserted into my most private of places, no big deal I’ve had this done before, then as the liquid flowed into me I felt my stomach grow tense, very tense until I got to a point where no alternative existed other than to push down with all of my strength but because the tube was in the way nothing would flow. Noting my obvious distress the driver guy removed the tube from my bowels then I gave it everything I had. Finally, blessed relief came as torrents of water and anything else in me exploded out of me and into the pan. All the while Mr. Driver guy was cursing into the air. When a break occurred with my evacuating I looked through my legs and noticed his arms and chest were, well, they were covered with uhm … never mind.

After he wiped my butt with an oily rag, he had nothing else to clean me with; I stood up then lost control and ejected the last two remaining products.

I went to the sink, ran some water in it then took the oily rag and along with some Ivory dish washing liquid cleaned up the best I could then got dressed.

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From there, my next trips were to South Africa, South Korea, London, Jamaica, and Cancun then on to Mexico City. I met my family at the airport in Mexico City then we went to the hotel where they would be staying for the time we would be there. My father was lavishing praise onto me like he had never done before. I finally felt accepted by him as his son but that was not to last very long, not long at all.

One day when he and I were alone out driving in the countryside my father asked me how many people had crossed my path, people who I felt necessary for them to pay the ultimate price for real threats of really harming me. I only admitted the one guy who tried but utterly failed to forcefully use me for his own personal sexual favors.

“Good poco. Very good. You fail to tell me everything, every circumstance. You are truly a warrior. True warriors do not boast their conquests. Keep yourself pure poco. Do not give into lustful thoughts because by doing so God will strike you dead. Maybe not at the time, maybe not in this lifetime, but you will be punished severely.”

“But father, my head is crazy. Every 5 minutes … I cannot help it papa. They won’t stop.”

“No poco. Do not argue with me. At all costs, stay pure of mind and do not give into your body urges. Save yourself for your wife so you can have children.”

“Okay papa. I promise I will try again.”

“What do you mean Antoine Garza? Did you give into sin and depravity of the flesh?”

My tears started flowing, I could not stop them. I was so filled with shame. My father was absolutely steadfast in his beliefs. His beliefs became mine in that moment. To my father, I confessed “Yes sir. My training could not stop me. Papa I wake up, my seed falls into my bed. Sometimes … I … I do concentration exercises before I go to sleep papa.”

“You must go to confession. The devil has your mind. This is of grave matter poco. I will take you myself. Until you control your mind, you are no warrior. You must discipline yourself, and if you do not then I will.”

My father then stopped the car on a lonely deserted road on our way back into the city and whipped me very hard. I took it like a man, he was proud of me for not crying out in pain as each of the 20 lashes bruised and battered my back side.

My father took me to a church when we arrived back in the city. There we met a man, a priest simply named “The Padre”. This- man, this huge man was looking down and into my soul with his deep dark penetrating eyes. I felt shivers course rapidly through every single vein in my body. Sensei had taught me how to recognize evil … but I am but a boy though. Pure recognition development takes time to perfect the skills necessary... he would say to me after every lesson in its art.

In Spanish my father outlined my difficulties then the priest turned to me and said, “What is your sin, boy?” Padre asked gravely.

Although tears threatened to spill from my eyes, thankfully they did not because I cannot be weak in front of my father, and this man whom I do not know. I replied, “Lust sir.”

Enraged the priest said, “Do not use those two words together ever again, do you hear me?”

“Yes sir. My sin is lust, I cannot stop those thoughts. I have used my body in impure ways. I am sorry.”

“Do you go to sleep with them?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you wake up with them?”

“Yes sir. Sometimes they wake me up early …”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes, I wake up. I am wet. Padre, I wear very tight underwear. I wear two and three pairs to keep it from … but I fail.”

“That is a sign of devil possession. This is serious. How often does that happen, child?” Padre asked while deeply in concentration.

“4 to 5 times a week sir.”

“I see. And what happens on the other nights? Obviously you are doing something to prevent the devil from taking over your flesh.”

I looked over at my father in shame, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly guilty. He shook his head no with his bright blue eyes but they were sad; he already knew the answer and I did not need to say anything. “Be truthful, be forthright in all matters.” My Sensei had repeatedly told me when I had not told him entire truths. To my father I nodded affirmatively.

“I sin. I touch it.”

“You spill your own seed by your conscious actions?” The Padre asked incredulously.

“Yes sir. I do. I cannot stop sometimes.”

“Very well. Let us pray … Dear Father in heaven … we bring to you today this child of your most holiness. He has fallen into mortal depravity and he has dishonored the temple you gave him at birth. He has a weak mind. He has surely fallen out of your Grace and Love. But he comes before you today so we pray that his soul and body temple return to meek, humble and sinless ways. For these we pray. Amen.”

“Amen.” I said with tears streaming down my face. I never cry, and today I have cried twice. Quickly, I blotted the tears away from my eyes with my handkerchief that I pulled out of my pocket.

“Amen.” My father said reverently.

“Antoine, you will lead us thru 5 complete recitations. Offer your pain for the poor souls in purgatory. Think of your poor father having to spend his time atoning for his sins of not teaching you properly, and for your sins.”

“Yes sir. Papa, I’m sorry. I will do penance. Please forgive me.”

“Your actions speak louder than words boy. I will be strict. I will come up with a solution. Pray.” My father said ice coldly. I shivered.

Both my father and The Padre each took one of my hands and held them in prayer. For the next hour and a half, I led us in prayer. However, if I missed a word, stuttered, squirmed or cleared my throat The Padre would make me start that set over again.

When we completed our prayer circle The Padre spoke up slowly, “We must consecrate your body, we must make it clean and pure and free from your lustful desires and actions.”

“Yes sir. I want to stop sinning, sir. Please help me.”

“Very well. Come with me.” The Padre said. Then without another word being spoken, he took us to the Baptismal pedestal. He took a gallon jug of water from its cabinet then poured its contents into the deep dish sitting inside of the granite receptacle. He prayed over it, blessed it then turned around to face me and said, “Disrobe. I must first bless your offender with this holy water then I shall anoint you with holy oil. Once those are completed, I will bless your head then anoint it too with holy oils to free your mind of the devil who resides in you. Go ahead; disrobe while I put on my sacrificial vestments for ritual.”

That said The Padre reached into his closet then pulled out a purple tunic which he put on over his head. At the same time, I removed my socks and shoes, then my shirt. My father took them then folded them up neatly and laid them on a table next to the Baptismal pedestal.

Reluctantly, I shivered despite the warm temperatures. I visibly shuddered as I unbuttoned my pants, unzipped then lowered them down over my butt, thighs and calves to the floor. I stepped out of them and as I was folding them up my father snatched them from my hands. Angrily, he completed folding them then laid them out on the same table as my other clothes were lying on.

Now, I had a problem. While I had worn 3 pairs of underwear, despite my best attempts to make it stop, I felt a stirring in the front side of my underwear that I could not stop. Thinking quickly, I put my thumbs in the waist band of the outer most pair then they took the same path as my pants had taken. My father grabbed them then ran his hand through their insides as if he were looking for something. Satisfied, he folded them neatly then laid them on top of the rest of my clothes.

By now, the contour of my maleness could not be mistaken as it pushed out against the two remaining layers of fabric separating my source of sin and the outside world. The Padre began intensely praying out loud after seeing the evidence of my depravity.

Slowly, I grasped the second pair of underwear by the waistband with both of my thumbs then stopped. I looked to both my father and The Padre for understanding. They gave me none. A look of disgust washed over my fathers’ face as I lowered my second pair of briefs down which I then handed to my father. He accepted them then performed the same inspection. Once again satisfied he folded them neatly then sat them on top of my first pair.

Closing my eyes, steeling myself against the world, feeling alone as I had never felt alone before, my face as hot as it has ever been in my 13 years of life, sweating as I had never sweat in the same period of time, I grasped the very last barrier against the world by its waistband then quickly took them down using the very same path as the two previous trips had taken. I reached over to hand them to my father. With a disgusted look on his face he pointed for me to fold them and put them on the table as he had done the previous two times.

The Padre gasped as my fully engorged pillar of sinful flesh unfolded then hung in its full length alongside my left thigh, all the while right in front of them both.

“Antoine THAT is completely and utterly filled with sin; you should be ashamed! THAT is abnormal. You cannot possibly be my son. Padre, look how …” My father could not finish his sentence. He put his face in his hands then wept loudly in shame and disgust. I had never before seen my father weep about anything, even with the death of his mother.

“Be damned. You are cursed child. I have never seen anything like this in my 45 years of tending to God’s flock. This is an aberration against nature.”

“I know. Yes sir.” I said quietly totally filled with shame. I had made my father cry. The Padre looked at me with total contempt. His eyes were, once again, boring holes deep into the core of my very being. I had to look away as they were stabbing through my very essence and causing me great and unrelenting pain, the magnitude greater than anything I had ever before experienced.

My father stopped weeping. He reached for a tissue then wiped his eyes dry of their tears. He then blew his nose which shattered the silence surrounding us. I had never before seen such contempt in my fathers’ eyes as I did right then.

“Is there no hope Padre?” My father asked gravely.

“With God’s will and strength hope always remains. Never lose your faith. Trust your One and Only Father, Armando. Never doubt it. God can move mountains, part the sea, bring about fire and floods … so, yes, there is hope. Little as there may be.”

Turning toward me again The Padre asked, “How much control do you have over THAT?”

“I tried not to get … the way it is now sir none, I guess, sir.”

“No, how much control do you have before spilling your seed?”

“It all depends, sir. Not much if you are asking what I think you are asking.”

“Very well.” The Padre said as he gathered the bowl and holy towels together. He scooted my clothing aside then sat the bowl down next to them. He then dipped some of the holy water into a chalice like cup yet it was not a chalice at all.

“Child this is all a matter of control over yourself. Once you master control you should be okay. Do you feel your seed ready to fall?”

“It would not take much sir.” I said shamefully knowing this is not what my father wanted to hear, not at all. I was right. My father looked away in total disgust.

“Very well. Control yourself. Drop two seeds of God’s essence into this chalice. If you can do that then there is hope. We will know that God has blessed you, that He has forgiven you. Go ahead.”

“Really? Here? Now? In front of you?”

Once again, The Padre looked me deep into my eyes and on down into my soul which was quaking. I was quaking not so much from embarrassment but from the profound knowledge that once my dick began leaking it would explode ... nevertheless I took a hold of the serpent’s head then attempted to squeeze out two drops. When that did not work, I very daintily without commitment barely stroked it twice, three then four times. On the fifth stroke, I felt myself right on the verge of unloading a torrent so I stopped, let go of myself then tried controlling my breathing, my awareness, my sense of time and place.

“I can’t do it sir. I cannot control that which cannot be controlled.”

No, wait. I can do what I usually do when my hand must spill my seed. I learned how to do it without experiencing orgasm. I thought doing it that way would prevent my lust, but it didn’t, but still …

I grasped my penis again then with every ounce of control I could bring forward, I squeezed rhythmically. When I felt the moment arrive, when I felt the sperm traveling down my tube, I held it steady. With precision, I squeezed it one more time. The Padre held up the chalice to the end of my dick as it began draining in a controlled way. I stopped the flow by squeezing my dick very hard to the point where it hurt. The only problem with doing it that way are my balls ache with need for release, my back muscles hurt with pent up need, my chest gets tight, my muscles get rigid, I get light headed then get a pounding headache. That day was no different than any other.

When I let go of my dick before losing control, it continued to ooze its un-released, stored up and held back liquids until a small puddle gathered at my feet. The Padre handed me a wad of Kleenex. I dabbed the end of my dick which resulted in a flood of juices however I was not taken over by orgasm. Once it was dry, once I was sure my juices had flowed completely, or as much as possible, I leaned down then wiped up the circle of sperms that had escaped in a planned and controlled way.

When I had finished cleaning up The Padre lifted a nearby trash can so I could deposit the used tissue in it. I did.

Once he had placed the can back on the floor, he reached up on the Baptismal table, retrieved a spoon then swished my essence and the holy water around until it was mixed as well as possible. By now, my dick had returned to its semi-normal state of flaccidity. He put the cup between my scrotum and penis then lifted the chalice until it rested between their juncture in the middle. I jumped slightly because the bottom half of my dick was extremely sensitive to the cold water surrounding it. I recovered quickly though. The cold water sent my penis to its final resting place. I was now totally in control then said, “Thank you God. Thank you for blessing my efforts and releasing me from its wickedness.”

My father once again placed his face into his hands but wept silently this time. When he had regained his senses, he stood up then came to me, took me into a hug then whispered, “God’s power is great. Never forget it.” He sat down. I felt proud once again. I felt that my sin had been removed, and that my dick was now purified, and that my father once again loved me. I felt clean once again, but this time was different, my cleanliness was stronger, and felt it would be everlasting but The Padre said differently, “Now we must anoint your sinful organ as well as your head after we clean them adequately.”

That said he put alcohol on cloth and dabbed the end of my dick with it. Reaching back up on the Baptismal pedestal, he took a cruet of holy water and poured it over my dick and balls. That compete, he reached for another cruet containing an oily substance … oh, the holy oils … he poured that over my entire penis then dabbed it dry with a holy kerchief like piece of fabric.

After performing my head and mind consecration, The Padre sprinkled water on each article of clothing as I put them on one at a time.

Feeling refreshed and clean, light and happy, The Padre gave me my penance which shattered my good feelings. He said, “Antoine, you will sprinkle your penis with black pepper each night after your cleansing bath and before you go to sleep. The pepper itself will not harm you. Should the devil possess you once again you will awaken quickly and will be able to pray fervently. Go child. Sin no more.”

As my father drove us home he said with disgust dripping from his vocal cords, “No woman will have your manhood. You will be unable to pleasure her. You were not even hard. You have to be hard to penetrate your wife. I don’t know what you will do … I wish you luck though.”

My father did pepper me for the first three nights then he turned me loose with my solemn assurances that I would continue my penance, and continue my penance for a total of 9 days, that I would pray fervently asking that my sin be taken away, and so that I would escape the fires of eternal damnation.

On the 10th day I could no longer take the pain despite my training to not feel it. On that morning, I very carefully washed and rewashed and rewashed with only soap suds until all signs of pepper were removed. After my shower and drying off was completed I took some of my mothers’ facial cream then applied it to my boyhood very liberally. Feeling my sin coming on very quickly, I sat down on the closed toilet lid just in the nick of time because my moment had arrived sending a thick geyser of molten hot essence onto my nose for the first shot then subsequent ones coated my chest and belly thoroughly. After recovering I took another quick shower. Not only did I wash down the evidence of my transgressions into the drain but it also washed away the extreme guilt and shame I had burdened myself with. For the next several days I controlled my nearly constant need for seminal release by only doing it each morning after my shower.

*** To be continued

If you have comments please contact me at kc.joe.wtr at Gmail.com. My story website is at Joe Writer Man Parent Website. Come visit sometime. There is some additional information here for my stories, including some pictures of my characters.