Date: Sun, 25 Mar 2007 00:11:47 -0500
From: carl_mason@comcast.net
Subject: INDOMITABLE SPIRIT - 11

INDOMITABLE SPIRIT - 11

Copyright 2007 by Carl Mason

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 author.  However based on real events and
places, "Indomitable Spirit" 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.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to
the author at carl_mason@comcast.net

If you would like to read additional stories by this author, please turn to
the "Authors/Prolific Authors" link at the beginning of the Nifty Archive.

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 safe sex.


CHAPTER 11

(Revisiting Chapter 10)

At the end of the evening, Tommy settled into Eli's arms with a sigh, for
he, too, was weary.  The good doctor did say something about the need to
hire a top tutor and get his ward back on the educational path, but,
frankly, the golden-haired one didn't hear much of it.  Rather, as Eli
reached over to get the light, the boy just moaned in deep pleasure,
wrapped Eli's arm just a bit more tightly around his chest, and wiggled his
butt a little further into the doctor's groin.  It had been a good day.

(Continuing Our Story - Dawn's Early Light)

"Enjoy this cup of American coffee, Master.  It'll wake you up better than
the Turkish crap!"  "Yes, thank you, Tommy.  How did you brew American
coffee out of the stuff I have to buy here?  (Pause.)  Oh, God, that's
good!"  As Reynolds appreciatively took the first few sips of his breakfast
coffee, Tommy stood beside him, smiling widely and absentmindedly rubbing
his Master's bare back.  Finally, the man threw his one free arm around the
boy's body and gently squeezed his muscular buttocks.  "Ok, Big Stuff,
let's get this day underway," he growled.

Shaking his head vigorously to banish the last vestiges of sleep, Dr.
Reynolds spoke sharply.  "You ready to hold the fort here today while I get
into the office?"  "Yes, Master!" the boy snapped.  "Good!  The carpet
layer will be coming early.  In the early afternoon, the Air Express people
will be delivering the gym equipment we have purchased.  Keep one eye on
all of them.  Although they're experts whose advice you should consider,
the truckers will put the equipment where you want it.  That means you need
to develop a tentative floor plan before they get here.  Both overseers
will leave a bill with you.  Ok?"  "Ok, Master...can do!  Now get your
shower and get out of here.  I've got work to do!" growled the lad,
mimicking Reynolds.  Striking like a predator, the man grabbed the youth,
snarled, and fastened his teeth on his neck.  He had all that he could do
to force himself to let go and reluctantly slink upstairs...the boy's
snickers ringing in his ears.

Nothing went right that morning, as Dr.  Reynolds entered his office at the
University Hospital.  It was still early; the staff members he needed
hadn't arrived as yet.  The coffee and the soggy Danish were vile!  He had
a couple of sensitive e-mails to write, but he couldn't construct a
graceful sentence to save himself.  After a half hour's work, his new
manuscript was going NOWHERE!  The images from yesterday that invaded his
mind and refused to be suppressed didn't help. With an irritated grunt, he
signed off, grabbed his coat, and stalked out of the office.

(Uncharted Territory)

He had told himself that he would drive around for a while and then either
head back to the office or home, depending on whether his mind had cleared.
Hence, the good doctor was actually surprised when he first looked at the
signposts and saw that he was only a few miles from his friend's farm.  Oh,
well, a light sherry and a bit of conversation wouldn't hurt anything.

It was when the house slave indicated that John had not yet risen that he
remembered he had promised Zeb that he would check Ken out during the week.
Naturally, all the slaves were up and around - and had been for hours!
Wiping his hands on a rag, Zeb himself limped out of the barn as he drove
up and parked nearby.  Gesturing for the old slave to skip the amenities,
he greeted him and reminded him of his promise.  Without saying a word, Zeb
yelled loudly for Ken.  After a minute or two, the scowling boy appeared
from behind the shack.  "Just as well you're here today, Doc," Zeb mumbled.
"As usual, the kid ain't doin' nutin'...just mopin'.  Maybe you can give
him some horse tonic and turn his motor over.  Just don't be surprised if
he's a mite off.  These days he seems to hate everybody!"

The reader will appreciate the fact that both men were amazed when the lad
actually grinned when he saw Dr. Reynolds.  Their attitude turned to shock
when he ran across the courtyard and flung himself onto the ground in
obeisance before their guest.  As Reynolds crouched down beside the boy and
ran his fingers through his sticky brown hair, the youth looked up and
said, simply, "You came."  His father barked out a warning, but the doctor
held up a restraining hand.  He then turned and, grasping the boy by his
hefty shoulder, helped him to rise.  The smell coming off that naked
fourteen- year-old was indescribable!  Quickly, so as not to vomit, he told
Ken to go down to the stream and wash thoroughly.  If he were clean, they
would talk when he returned.  "No 'countin' for kids this age," Zeb said
with some wonder as he watched the boy racing for the stream that ran
behind their shack.  "I'll get back to work and hope you can find what's
wrong with him.  Abby's working in the fields today.  You can talk in the
front room of the house if'n that's ok with you."  "That's fine with me,
Zeb.  We'll talk later."

About five minutes later, the boy reappeared.  While he was still heavily
tanned, both his brown skin and his brown hair were about four shades
lighter than when he had left - and his body was sufficiently free of crud
that flies were not swarming about it.  "Sorry to take so long, sir" he
apologized with a grin.  "Used soap..."  "You look great, Ken," Eli
laughed, grasping the boy affectionately by the back of the neck and
pulling him lightly into his body.  "Go over to my car and get my black
doctor's case in the back seat.  Then we'll go over to your house to talk."
"Yes, SIR!" the boy snapped, turned, and ran for the car.  Momentarily, he
returned, walking proudly as he carried the small satchel.

Eli looked around as they entered the tiny shack.  Somewhat surprised, he
saw that everything, while old and threadbare, was relatively clean and
neatly arranged.  "Looks nice," he grunted instinctively in Ken's
direction.  "Yeah, Ma tries," he answered.  "It's sure one hell of a lot
better than the way most of the other slaves live...in barns that are
falling apart, in stalls.  I even have a blanket that I can lay down on the
floor at night.  Most of my friends sleep right on the ground.  Not much
food, but we live on a farm so there's always some soup...  Ma tries."
"And your father?" Reynolds asked softly.  "Wall, I don't know why it is,
but we're always fightin'.  When I was a little kid, I liked him, but
now..."  "Well, you're not so little anymore," the doctor said quietly as
he gazed at the sturdy lad standing in front of him.

"Little" the boy surely was not.  At fourteen, there was already plenty of
him - and it was all muscle with almost no fat.  He must have been 5'6"
tall and at least 155 lbs.  Brown hair...brown eyes...a well-shaped face.
For health reasons, the owner required all of his slaves to remain fully
smooth other than for the hair on their heads.  It was obvious to the
doctor that Kenny, full grown, would be an awesome specimen.  Quickly
checking his blood pressure, pulse, and respiration, he also attended to
his eyes, ears, and mouth.  It was impossible for him not to be struck by
the well-developed arm and shoulder muscles, as well as his thick chest and
powerful lower torso.  A rippling back flared into strong, beautifully
rounded buttocks.  The boy's thighs were like corded tree trunks mounted
securely on solid poles driven deep into the earth.

"Quite a body - a real heavy-duty model," Reynolds muttered as he took a
brief break.  "Thank you, sire," the boy replied, a look of real pride on
his face.  Again, as happened yesterday, the doctor caught the flash of
intelligence in the handsome youth's eyes.  As was his habit, Dr. Reynolds
asked the lad if he might examine his genitals.  Looking somewhat surprised
that he had been asked, he simply nodded in the affirmative.
Matter-of-factly, Reynolds picked up his thick, heavy cock and measured it
before he continued.  "Six and one-half inches," he announced..."definitely
a heavy-duty model."  Ken grunted as if this were of little interest, but
watched like a hawk.  The good doctor then manipulated his heavy testicles
and fingered his long scrotum.  Another grunt...and a hiss of air...
"Doing fine, Kenny!  I'm proud of you." Reynolds whispered.  "This isn't
easy!"  In a somewhat weak voice, Kenny whispered, "It's ok, sir.  Keep
goin'."  "Ok, Kenny, lie on your back up here on the table.  Bring your
legs up, way back, and out, holding them under the knees.  I'm going to
check your prostate.  That's a little gland inside you that produces
semen."  Kenny shook his head and stiffened a bit.  Just relax, Big Guy.
When you feel my finger, push out like crazy, just like you do when you
have to take a dump."  This part of the exam didn't phase the lad.  He
pushed out when the heavily lubricated finger contacted his anus.  When it
was withdrawn and relubed with a second finger added, he took both without
incident.  As a matter of fact, the "in, out, and around" movement of the
fingers was starting to excite him, especially when the second finger
contacted his walnut-sized prostate.  "Wow!" he squeaked.  "What was that?"
"That, brave knight, was your prostate.  Felt good, yes?"  "Oh, yeah..."

"That's not so bad," he grunted bravely when the continued finger fucking
brought his mighty cock to full erection.  "Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-ohhhhh," he
wailed as his cock pulsed, dripped, and became more intensely
tomato-colored than before.  Quickly removing his fingers from the boy's
rectum and wiping them off, Reynolds gently squeezed the imposing cock a
couple of times and took a measurement at full mast.  "My God!" he almost
yelled, "eight and three-quarters inches!  You are really something!  Ok,
Kenny, the last thing we need is a semen sample.  You jack off.  When you
cum I'll take some in this container. Go!"  Kenny didn't really know what
the expression "jack off" meant, but when the good doctor pump primed a
bit, he took over and nearly filled the specimen bottle on his first try!

After allowing the panting, sweaty kid to relax for a moment, Reynolds
helped him to sit up on the table and sat beside him with an arm flung
around his shoulders.  "I've got a great patient here.  Thanks Kenny," he
said.  The youngster just threw both arms around him and dug his blushing
face as deeply into the side of his chest as it would go.  Reynolds heard a
muffled "Thanks, doc."  God knows, that was thanks enough.

While the doctor was filling out several record forms, Kenny sat on the
floor not far from where Reynolds was working.  When he had completed the
cards, he abruptly put the cap on his pen and turned towards the boy.
Catching him in mid stroke (for the thoroughly aroused kid had been jacking
off), the doctor motioned for the crimson-faced youngster to get up and
come over to him.  Preceded by his mighty rod, the boy moved over and found
himself engulfed in an honest-to-God, completely guaranteed, copyrighted
Reynolds bear hug.  Although his face was a study in conflicting emotions,
it was pretty obvious from the body chemistry that this was a high spot in
Kenny's recent life.

Leaning against the man to whom he had given his trust, the sturdy lad
began whispering close to his ear.  Most of it was inaudible, but his words
were loud enough at the end to be caught.  ". . .I just gotta, sir, I just
gotta.  Something real bad is gonna happen 'round here 'cause I'm close to
bein' dead meat, one way or t'uther.  If you can do anything to help me,
I'll...I'll..."  Kenny's voice broke.  He just couldn't verbalize the final
thought.  Eli turned, kissed him firmly on the cheek, and growled, "Let's
go see your father."

(Heavy Hearts and Glimmers of Hope)

The three men - Dr.  Reynolds, Zeb, and Kenny - sat on straw in an open
area within the barn.  Reynolds finally stood and in a strong, formal voice
said, "Kenny, are you willing to stand here before your father and tell him
what you told me earlier?  Are you ready to show the courage of a
full-grown man?  Will you act more bravely than even Jack, your older
brother, did?  Your dad has said he's ready to listen if you're ready to
speak.  The choice is yours.  If you are ready, come forward."

Initially looking half sick and ready to run at the first opportunity,
Kenny took Dr.  Reynolds' place standing.  Scared as he was, he began to
speak.  "Dad, I've been acting mean and childish for quite awhile, and I
feel real bad about it.  I've been so rotten that I guess you and Ma think
I don't love you anymore.  That's not true.  I do love you...both of you.
But Dr. Reynolds has helped me to see that I've got to tell the truth...to
you and, like any man, to myself.

"The first truth I've got to tell is that I wish that lion-cat had got me
instead of Jack.  It would have been easier...for everyone.  (Pause.)  Dad,
I can't be a farming slave.  Know how much I respect you and everything
you've done.  I look at Billy's life - and Pat's, and Ernesto's, and
Mohammed's - and I KNOW how much you've done.  But, Dad, everything that's
in me wants to do things that I can't do on this farm...and every time I
try to be me, somebody slaps me down.  In the Sheikhdom, I know what
happens to slaves who run away, and I don't want to end that way.  And I
don't want to do what several of my friends have when things became too
much and they lost all hope.

"The next truth, Dad, is one that I have to tell myself, as well as you.  A
couple of years ago, I started changing.  You know...  I found there's one
place where I'm different from almost all of my friends."  (The boy
shuddered and almost lost his balance.  He closed his eyes for a moment and
than continued.)  "They like girls and dream of girls.  I like boys and
dream of boys and want to...do things with boys...and men.  I'm just not
like Jack," he added bitterly.  Zeb stirred tensely.  "Last year, some of
the guys caught me making out with another kid who's dead now.  They killed
him and for a long time, they tore me apart.  Then, all of a sudden, I
began getting bigger and stronger than some of the worst bullies - and I
guess I tore some of THEM apart.  The trouble hasn't stopped.  The word is
that one of the guys my own age that I took in a fair fight went to his
brother who's about 26.  He's a real bad guy.  He's killed before...this
isn't just a lot of words.  Several people have told me that he and his
buddies are just waiting for the right opportunity to put a knife into me.
The overseers have never been able to stop them before, so I guess that
sooner or later they'll get me.

"I'm so very sorry, Dad.  Please forgive me and help Ma to forgive me.  I
guess you know that anything you and Dr. Reynolds can do to help will mean
everything to me.  I love you, Dad, and I love you, too, Dr.  Reynolds."
Refusing to cry - though tears could be seen in his eyes - he sat down.  He
could not look at the others.

Zeb thanked his son for his bravery and said...somewhat grimly...that he
and Dr.  Reynolds would discuss the matter and see what could be done.  In
the meantime, he should return to his duties...around home.  As he rose to
dismiss the boy, Kenny immediately stood up in the petitioning mode.  "Yes,
Kenny."  "Father, may I have your permission to ask Dr.  Reynolds a
question?"  Flabbergasted by his son's newfound manners, Zeb simply nodded
his approval.  "Dr. Reynolds," Kenny asked, a deep note of sadness in his
voice, "when you see Tommy next will you please tell him that I really
liked meeting him yesterday and hope to see him again...sometime?  Thank
you, sir."  With that he left the barn.

Zeb looked at his departing son and then looked at Eli.  Frankly, sir, I
don't know what we can do.  I do know that if this goes on much longer,
neither Kenny nor his former friends will be the ones to decide how he
leaves this place.  The owner will simply send one of his overseers over
here to take Kenny and put him down.  You just can't have a totally
dissatisfied slave on a farm anymore than you can have an uppity slave."
"How about the 26-year-old?" Eli asked.  "John knows about him.  The next
time, he looks cross-eyed at someone, he's dead.  Kenny's right though
about their not having caught him as yet.  There's been just enough doubt
to stay John's hand."  The experienced old slave added, "Fact is, one death
in these situations is rarely enough.  You have to clean out the nest - and
it can cost big money to replace the manpower."

Zeb got up, took two tin cups off a shelf, and went into another part of
the barn.  When he returned, he handed one of the cups to the good doctor.
"Ah, Zeb, that's good stuff," Eli sighed, sniffing the rich red wine.  "You
always made the best!"  (Pause.)  "I'm his father!" Zeb said abruptly.  "I
owe him the chance for the best life possible.  He's right.  He doesn't
belong here...apples and thorns.  Given the way things are, it's also true
that no girly boy can make it here.  As if speculating about a question of
ultimate metaphysical import around a faculty table, he airily asked, "Dr.
Reynolds, you've got one teenaged slave.  What would you think of having
two?  That way I'd at least get to see him grow up."  Watching Eli's face
like a hawk, he laughed uproariously as if his suggestion had been the
biggest joke ever!  Eli finished his wine and held out the tin cup for
more.  "Better get me swacked, Zeb.  I've got a feeling that I'm going to
need it!"

After another half-hour's conversation, Eli finally got Zeb to agree to go
with him to talk with John.  (Zeb was far more reluctant to talk with John
than with Eli.  Slaves simply did not call attention to themselves
unnecessarily.)  Once in the manse, Zeb became increasingly brusque, almost
disconnected from any role that he might play in saving his son's life.
After he had rather dryly presented Ken's situation (without saying a word
about the boy's professed sexual orientation), he actually pled that he
should retire due to having a valuable milk cow in the barn whom he might
lose.  Given leave and rising to go, he then surprised Eli by wondering if
John might sell the boy to the Doctor.  There was no advocacy - only the
soft introduction of an idea as if it had just occurred to him.

As the door closed behind Zeb, John winked at Eli and referred to the old
man as a real "tail-twister."  "Worth his weight in gold," Eli said in full
agreement.  "Many times over," the slave owner continued, snipping the end
of an enormous cigar.  "I can't be concerned with all of the reasons, but I
do know about the problems that young Kenny has been having with many of
his friends.  Had it not been for Jack's untimely death, I would have moved
sooner, but cleaning out that nest of vipers is going to cost me five or
six slaves in the prime of their lives.  Unfortunately, it was Jack who was
able to control them in ways that no overseer ever could.  In time, he
would have replaced his father as my main agent on the estate.  Kenny is
cut of quite a different bolt of cloth.  He doesn't belong here.  There his
father is correct.  Not that he has ever shown it, but I even have
questions as to whether he is really...manly.  Did he tell you that he
actually wants to read?"  (John snorted loudly into his colored
handkerchief.)  "Rubbish!"  As if surprised by the idea, he screwed up his
face and asked, "Do you really want to get mixed up with such a
jackanapes?"

When Eli said nothing to shut the door unequivocally, the wily businessman
realized that the solution to at least part of his difficulties might be
right under his nose!  (In all honesty, he also saw a way in which he might
at least partially repay Eli for having saved his beloved wife's life and
given them nearly twelve more years together.)  "Just by way of
speculation, young man, what would you say if I offered to sell you the
slave Kenny for one denarius to make it official and legal?"  (The denarius
was the basic monetary unit of the Sheikhdom, a remnant of the days when
the lands around the Persian Gulf were part of the Roman Empire.  At the
time of this writing, it was worth approximately 1.36 USD [U.S. Dollars]).
At the very least, I'd say that it's an offer that I would have to quickly
discuss with my household."  "Very well, my good doctor.  Discuss it with
them, and then we can speak again."  He concluded by saying, "May I suggest
that you do not hesitate too long before attending to this matter."

(One Denarius?)

At the very instant that Reynolds was climbing the steps to the outside
door, his seventeen-year-old was roaring down the inside stairwell...in his
usual state of undress, of course.  They came within a nanosecond of
meeting in a massive collision.  As it was, Eli was welcomed home somewhat
more effusively than was normally the case.  Finally, Tommy stepped back
and dropped to his knees.  Placing his forehead on Reynolds' shoes, he
formally greeted him and managed to insert the fact that he had been
concerned.  "Where'd you see this, Big Stuff?" Eli laughed.  "On Arab TV,"
Tommy grunted.  "Really over the top, isn't it?"  "Yeah," the Doctor
grunted, as he dragged the boy to his feet and enveloped him in a bear hug.
"It's not quite 'you'.  Thanks for being concerned, but I just had to get
away from the office for awhile," he mumbled into Tommy's hair.

"Missed you," Tommy whispered.  Then, remembering what he was about, he
pushed Eli in the direction of the new gym.  "You gotta see it!" he
chortled over and over.  "It's great!"  Indeed, when the door was opened
and the new room came into view, it WAS great!  Tommy was ecstatic over the
wide variety of top quality equipment, the mirrored walls, and the
attractive and functional blue carpet.  Winking, Eli went over to the new
wall phone, called the slave center, and arranged for their top fitness
instructor to phone and arrange sessions with Tommy.

Slumping down on a padded bench, Eli realized that Tommy had said that he
missed him.  "I think I'd better tell you more about what I've been doing
today," he said.  "I did give Ken a physical out at the farm.  I promised
to tell you that he enjoyed meeting you yesterday and hoped that it might
happen again."  "Thanks, sir.  He's a really nice guy, especially given
what he's had to live with while growing up.  I don't think he's that way
himself - and he's smart!  I sure wish I had a brother like that!"  Eli
suggested that he go up to the kitchen and get them a couple of soft
drinks.  "When you come back, I need to tell you more about what I
discovered this afternoon."

When Tommy returned, Eli sat him down and told him about the afternoon's
happenings, telling him frankly about John's offer, reserving only the
information about Ken's probable sexual orientation.  If they were ever to
be friends, he thought, they would have to work through that themselves.
If anything, the vehemence of Tommy's emotions startled him.  They needed
to get him out of there immediately...like tonight!  He could be killed by
those thugs at any moment.  Tommy had met those types at the slave center,
and they were bad news to anyone who wanted to do something other than lie,
cheat, steal, do drugs, and beat people up...or worse.  He knew that
Kenny's background would cause some problems in adjusting to a completely
different life, but if the Master wished his help, he would give it
everything he had.

Eli held out his arms and drew the boy into a tight embrace.  "Somehow,
Tommy, I didn't expect anything different from you.  Tomorrow...  Tomorrow
we'll work on it.  By the way we also need to plan our first weekend at the
beach and set up a party so you can meet more of my friends.  Can do?  "Can
do, Master!" responded Tommy.

At that point, there wasn't much left of the evening.  Atypically, Eli
turned in early only to find that Tommy was already in bed and, obviously,
badly upset.  Using all of his (extensive) persuasive powers, he eventually
was able to get the boy to open up.  "Master," he said hoarsely, "you know
how happy I've been as your slave."  Eli stiffened, realizing that the boy
had been crying.  "Gosh, if all Masters were like you, guys would be lining
up to serve!  (Pause.)  I'll admit that I've kinda dreamed that someday we
might be more than Master and slave.  So when I got thinking about Kenny's
becoming your slave, I began to hurt inside.  I know slaves aren't supposed
to ask questions without receiving permission, but I hope you'll forgive
me...just this once.  I know, Sire, that you find Kenny attractive...and
he's younger.  Does that mean you'll be selling me to someone else?"

Eli turned on his side towards the boy and then brought the front of their
bodies firmly together.  The feeling against his skin of the muscles on
Tommy's thick chest and his glorious thighs...the rich smell of his
body...just about drove him mad.  He grunted as he felt the head of the
youth's imposing cock push against him.  Drawing a long breath, the doctor
finally spoke. "Tommy, I'll never send you away.  I could not, for you are
as much a part of me as my own mind, soul, and body.  I love you in ways
that I can not show you fully as yet, but the day will come.  For the time
being, I must stay here on the Gulf - and play life's game by its rules.  I
believe that I have tasks to perform - and I want to live my life and
perform my duties with you at my side.

"You're right, Tommy.  I do find Ken attractive, but, Tommy, he is not you
- and he will never be you.  You and you alone are my chosen.  It's true
that the boy has a barely hidden intelligence that burns with white-hot
heat.  He also has more courage than most people I've met in this life.
I'd like to help him to rise above his beginnings and discover what he can
be.  I'd like to show him my love.  I'd like him to walk that road beside
his new brother.  But confuse the two of you?  No way...  Trust me, Tommy!
Have patience with me!  Love me!"


To Be Continued