Date: Sun, 26 Oct 2008 10:20:20 -0500
From: George Gauthier <georgegauthier@verizonmail.com>
Subject: Sean

			Sean
			Mer-Boy 3
			by George Gauthier

Author's Note: This is the third tale in the Mer-Boy series, each with a
different protagonist, so it is an independent story. You do not have to
read the other two first. It is a tale of a charming and submissive young
man's exploration of his sexuality and of his induction into the career of
a houri boy in an Arab country. It is set eight decades in the future where
STDs are completely under control, nudity taboos are almost absent from
social life, and medical advances have extended the human life span to
several centuries. The USA is also fully on the metric system.

It contains graphic descriptions of the male human body, of consensual
sexual activity between adult males, the youngest of whom is seventeen
years old, and features light bondage. The use of words or terms like
'boy', 'teen', 'youth', 'lad', etc, signify only the gender of the
characters and does not mean they are underrage.

If any of this would offend a reader, read no further. This is not intended
for persons younger than an age where they may freely and legally select
their reading matter in whatever jurisdiction applies.

This is fiction, not reportage. None of the characters is intended to
resemble any person living or dead.

It is offered for entertainment. If it manages to both entertain and to
provoke prurient interest, it will have succeeded in its aim. Writing this
tale has been the most fun the author has had wearing clothes in a very
long time. Well, since my last story.

Readers who like these stories might want to try my 'Daphne Boy' historical
tales or 'Naked Prey' series, both in the Gay/Historical section of the
archive. I also recommend my spoof of Hollywood in the 'Jungle Boy' tales,
posted in the Gay/Authoritarian section of the archive. Also, please try my
futuristic 'Track and Field' stories in College. For links to my stories,
look on the list of Prolific Authors on the Archive.

Comments and feedback welcome.

				Chapter 1. The Cyclades

The boat swung at anchor in a cove off one of the Cycladic Islands in the
Aegean Sea north of Crete.  Wavelets made a slapping sound on the hull of
the excursion schooner, but it was the light at dawn that awoke the naked
youth, only in his mid-teens by his slight stature, stretched out on deck.

An early riser anyway and a light sleeper, Sean Doyle went to the bow to
relieve himself, drank some juice and water, then started his stretching
exercises. He was slender yet muscular, his smooth skin bronzed with the
even tan of one often nude out of doors. Like many youths in the final
decade of the twenty-first century he had used a one-time depilatory which
left him permanently beardless and hairless all over. For the rest of his
life he would never have to shave anywhere.

He rather liked the way the lines of his trim body were clean and smooth,
free of body hair. It made him feel that much more naked and sexy,
especially they way the shaft of his manhood sprouted directly from his
belly wall rather than from a wiry thicket. Sean knew his clean lines
looked better for sports too where most competition was in the nude
anyway. Everywhere these days boys competed naked in high school and
collegiate sports like track and field and aquatics, reviving the
traditions of the ancient Olympians. The only exception was for whatever
winter sports survived after a century of global warming.

Shaking his long blond locks, Sean dove into the sea and swam toward the
island, actually a low rocky islet crowned by a stand of trees and shrubs
that screened one side from the other. The Cyclades Islands were the tops
of a submerged mountain range. Most of the 220 islands were unihabited. As
their name implies the Cyclades form a circle around the sacred island of
Delos.

Sean did not set foot on shore right away. Instead he swam back and forth
across the cove for the better part of an hour, relishing the feel of the
warm waters touching him everywhere, exulting in the strength and power of
his strokes, in his mastery of the watery element in which he felt so much
at home. His friends back home in Florida didn't call him Mer-Boy for
nothing. He was always in the water, whether at the shore, the lake, or the
pool. In between swims, he stretched out on the strand or the lawn, reading
and studying his lessons, for Sean was an intelligent lad, in the top
percentile in fact.

After he splashed his way ashore Sean took a walk around the island
admiring the way the colors of land and sea and sky complemented each
other. It felt primeval walking alone on a deserted island untouched by the
hand of man. He tried to imaging how a Bronze Age man like Homer might have
looked on the pristine scene, a rugged islet lost in a 'wine dark
sea'. True, Sean was there, but a slender nude boy was hardly an intrusion
of civilization.

The excursion on the schooner was just one of many clothing-optional
vacation cruises and resorts available these days. Sean did not feel the
least bit self-conscious about public nudity whether on the schooner or at
any beach resort in the Aegean or at home in Florida or on campus. A sexy
pretty boy like him was always welcome to prance around naked at least
among the tourist crowd. Old folks in isolated areas of the Greek Islands
still thought public nudity was scandalous even if it had been invented in
Ancient Greece. At least the oldsters could console themselves that even
liberated females were, for the most part, too distrustful of predators to
emulate their male counterparts, human nature being what it is.

Despite their reservations, nudity taboos were disappearing everywhere,
even in America, the last holdout for prudery in the developed
countries. Different attitudes, generational change, reform legislation,
and court decisions essentially removed the legal stigma to casual public
nudity -- in proper context of course. You didn't walk into the post office
or a restaurant starkers.

Especially at the increasingly popular single gender colleges few students
bothered with clothing in and around their college dorms, on the practice
track or running trails or in the outdoor recreational areas like the
swimming pool, soccer field, volley ball court, even for classes held
outdoors, though for indoor classes they would slip on sarongs.

These days sarongs were practically the student uniform on campus when boys
bothered with clothing at all in the heat, what with global warming and
all. Sean rather liked sarongs himself; they flattered his trim rump. If
you couldn't go naked, the next best thing was a sarong. Still if he had
his druthers, Sean preferred total nudity. As far as he was concerned, that
should be the default condition when you were young and pretty.

As Sean rounded the tip of the island, the vegetation hid his view of the
schooner. Now he felt truly alone, like a castaway or a sailor stranded by
pirates. On his second circuit of the island, the blond youth spotted a
boat sailing close to shore, a real sailing vessel, a modern style dhow
from the look of her. A friendly wave invited him on board so he swam out
the short distance and got pulled up on deck.

The crew of eight, all young Asians of uncertain ethnicity with olive skin,
wore sarongs.

"Yemen" he heard a voice behind him say. "The crew are Hadhramis from
Yemen."

Turning Sean saw a tall handsome man in his mid twenties, lighter skinned
than the crew, and obviously the owner of this fine boat. Sean felt a
sudden strong attraction to the dark haired man.

"From your puzzled look, I could see that you were wondering where my crew
comes from with their brown skins and Caucasian features: straight noses,
lithe physiques, and straight hair."

"Why, yes, I was. Yemen, that's at the southern end of the Red Sea, you
said. What's a Hadhrami?"

"An inhabitant of the Hadhramaut, the region of the Arabian Peninsula on
the Gulf of Aden. Actually there is an admixture of Nilotic blood in the
Hadhrami which accounts for their coloring. I myself am entirely Arab in my
ancestry. And we Hadhrami are not bedouin for the most part but town
dwellers, farmers and traders and sailors. My boat actually sailed from the
port of Aden on the mainland though I live on the island of Socotra. I am
called Sayid al Qu'ati, captain and owner. But enough of me, tell me about
yourself. Much as I might fancy the conceit that you are a pretty mer-boy
fished out of the sea, I suppose you are really from that schooner we
spotted?"

"Yes, I am" Sean admitted. "And you can say that I am a mer-boy too. At
least that is what they call me back home in Florida from all the time I
spend in the water. My real name is Francis Sean Aloysius Doyle, though
everyone just calls me Sean."

"As I shall then or maybe I will call you Mer-Boy. You are so smooth and
sleek and naked, like a creature of the sea."

"And in case you are wondering, sir, I'm not a kid. I was seventeen last
month, so legally I'm an adult. I know I may not look it, especially naked
and hairless like this." he said, his hands indicating his trim body.

Only 165 centimeters (five feet five) and barely 51 kilos (112 pounds),
little Sean was often taken for two or three years younger, especially when
he was naked. Not that it was easy to overlook him. The boy had one of
those faces that literally turned heads. Men and women did double takes and
stared at him wondering how anyone could be that good looking. Like Rob
Lowe for his generation.

Barely past his seventeenth birthday, Sean was a comely lad, short for his
age and slender. He had a fawn-like physique but with a wiry musculature,
toned and taut from so much swimming and running. Sean was pretty as a girl
with delicate -- almost elvin -- features, a straight nose, high
cheekbones, and large green eyes with a blond thatch on top, now plastered
to his head by his swim from the island.  He had no hair anywhere on his
body.

>From his tiny red nipples to a deeply indented navel, to narrow hips
framing a surprisingly ample manhood for one so slight in build, the boy
was real beauty. He carried so little body fat that his flat belly showed a
tracery of downward pointing veins just under the skin. The beat of his
heart was visible on the left side of his smooth chest. He was sleek and
smooth and deeply tanned, his wiry physique a vision of youthful male
pulchritude.

"And yes, I am from the schooner, though, truth to tell, I wish I weren't
or at least didn't have to go back there. Boy friend trouble," he added by
way of explanation.

"Has a roving eye, does he?"

Sean hesitated. This man was a stranger after all. On second thought, why
not blow off some steam to some guy he would never see again. So he vented
and told Sayid what the problem was.

"Not exactly. I'm the one who plays around. He thinks that makes me a
slut. What the hell. It's supposed to be an open relationship. Can I help
it if a lot of guys like my looks? I can't turn them all down. Some of them
are really hot. Randy can't see it that way. He calls it disloyalty. It's
not like we're married or something."

"Did he give you those bruises?" Sayid asked, referring to the purple and
yellow finger marks on his upper arms.

"Yes, he did, when he grabbed me hard. And no he doesn't beat me or
anything like that. Oh maybe some spanking, but that is just
foreplay. Anyway, we are really on the outs now. He's cut me off too." Sean
replied.

That was the hard part to talk about, that Randy thought he was just
sponging off him, spending his money, taking advantage of his
generosity. If Sean wasn't going to play the kept boy, why should Randy
shell out for him.

"So you are promiscuous then, Sean?"

"What I am is a seventeen year old male with a healthy sex drive." the boy
said with some asperity, hurt by the accusation that he had done something
wrong by spreading his favors widely.

"Yes I can see that. Here let's get a good look at you boy. Do you know
what it means if I tell you to assume the position?"

Nodding, Sean stepped to the middle of the deck and set his feet a little
over shoulder width apart, arms high, fingers linked behind his head,
elbows back, head level and looking straight ahead. A sexual submissive,
Sean was used to being taken in charge by larger males and being put on
display. So Sean didn't object to this but stood meekly, trembling from
excitement and lust, wondering what would happen next.

Sayid sat down on a hatch cover but he was so tall or rather Sean so small
that he still over-topped the diminutive lad. That gave the ship captain
total access to examine his delightful body.  Sayid ran his hands over Sean
familiarly and even intimately. It would have seemed churlish for Sean to
object to this implicit compliment. After all he had just complained that
Randy's objections to his promiscuity were unreasonable.

Truth to tell it was not mere vanity on Sean's to recognize that he had a
lovely form that inspired admiration and lust in the hearts of any male who
appreciates a beautiful boy. Entirely nude as he was, small and smooth and
hairless, it was only natural for the older man to take what might
otherwise have been viewed as considerable liberties: feeling his muscles,
stroking Sean's rump, slipping the blade of a hand into his cleavage,
running his hands over the boy's ribs, tweaking his tiny red nipples, even
fondling his manhood.

"You like this don't you boy? You like a man's hands touching you, stroking
you, stimulating you? You like the way my fingertips are tracing the
downward pointing veins on your belly wall. It's putting a fire in your
belly, isn't it?"

"Yes...sir."

"A bit of hesitation there. Not much training then. Would you like more?"

"Oh yes sir. Very much so."

"We shall see. Meanwhile let me examine you closer."

Sean had a beautiful body, slender yet muscular, taut, toned, and tanned
with narrow shoulders, eight pack abdominals, and narrow hips. His legs
were well muscled with veins prominent under the skin because of his low
body fat. Its faultless lines were not marred by body hair. His sex was
proportional with a smooth cock, foreskin stretched over the head, and a
scrotum the size of an apple and held close to the belly.

Sean was gratified that his genitals didn't look shriveled like with a lot
of other guys. His cock wasn't gnarly with veins. His foreskin hugged his
cock head, outlining the ridge of the glans under the skin, leaving just
the slit at the tip visible. Cock and balls were reasonably sized but he
wouldn't be scaring the horses. It took both small hands to cover his
erection, but only one when he was soft.

Sayid eyed the lad critically. He put his big hands on the youth's
shoulders, slid his palms over the flaring pectorals, ran his hands down
the impressively scalloped belly and circled his navel with his thumb, then
ran his fingers over the boy's narrow hips. He turned him around and ran
his hands down the boy's shoulder blades and flanks to the flare of his
hips and on to the curve of his buttocks, giving them a firm squeeze
followed by a pinch.

"Hey!" Sean objected, turning and covering his ass with his hands
protectively.

"Just getting acquainted. Don't worry Sean. No rough stuff. I promise."

As the boy subsided, Sayid continued with the examination. He slid the
blade of his hand between the boy's taut buttocks, giving an appreciative
grunt as he tapped the small hole therein. He slicked his fingers along the
perineum, then poked his index finger into the tight hole. The boy pushed
back on the impaling finger, moaning and gasping in arousal. Leaving the
boy hanging, Sayid pulled out and continued his examination. He reached
forward testing the firmness of the muscles on the back of Sean's thighs
and of his calves. The boy was impressively muscled and toned for one so
slight of build.

How erotic it was; the lad's slenderness was accentuated by the way he
stood straight, arms at shoulder height, elbows back, his chest thrust
forward, emphasizing the vulnerability of the torso. The captain spun the
youth to face him once again, smiling at the boy's embarrassment the way
the intimate visual and physical scrutiny had stimulated him, plumping his
cock up a bit. Sayid took the boy's testicles between his thumbs and
forefingers rolled them gently. The attention and stimulation to his
vulnerable balls quickly got Sean's cock rigid.

His ball sac pulled tight to the fork of his legs, the engorged cock
jutting straight out, with a fleshy purpled glans shaped like an arrowhead
at the end, a droplet of fluid glistening on its tip, a composition
bursting with youthful male assertiveness. Just a bit of a squeeze and the
boy got that look on his face that aroused lads get when they are about to
cum, a kind of ecstatic grimace. Nothing quite like controlling the source
of a young male's masculinity to make your point about power relationships
here. Sayid grasped the boy's cock and balls, enclosing them in his grip,
taking control of his masculinity. A tug on his scrotum showed the lad who
was in control.

Though Sean moaned at the rough treatment of his precious balls, his
erection never flagged. He was a complaisant youth who obviously liked to
have a strong male take charge of him, to control him, to grab his balls
and squeeze hard to show who was boss while he stood there at attention,
arms back, legs spread, hairless vulnerable ballsac hanging down, just
begging for his nuts to be fondled or even cracked again. Sayid gave them
another good squeeze. The boy's belly muscles contracted and he hissed in
pain, bending forward protectively but quickly snapping back to an upright
position, leaving himself open to whatever Sayid wanted to do with the
small spheres in their wrinkly ballsac. Not just a natural submissive,
then, but something of a pain slut, Sayid concluded.

"Your lover is a fool not to take you on any terms. You are just about the
most beautiful boy I have ever laid eyes on and the most complaisant. You
would take anything I threw at you, wouldn't you, little one? I could crack
your nuts or spank you or string you up for an ass whipping, couldn't I?"

"Yes sir."

"I am guessing that you are one of those gene tweaked boys. The treatment
tends to make these lovely spheres work overtime, giving you a supercharged
sex drive, even for a teenaged boy."

"Yes, I am. And you?," Sean ventured.

"Oh, I am an early version." Sayid laughed.

Sayid was referring to expensive gene tweaking of the gametes before
conception and birth. Sean was a member of the first generation to fully
benefit from advances in the understanding of obscure structures called
telomeres in chromosomes, which induced the body to maintain its
physiological processes in a state of homeostasis. The gene therapy also
protected him against all forms of cancer and stopped the aging process in
the late teens. The first embryos on whom the technique was used had found
their aging arrested in their mid-twenties.

The boy's folks were not well off enough themselves to have afforded it,
but a bequest from an uncle had given them the wherewithal to confer this
blessing on their son. Sean would spend the next three or four centuries
never aging as a beardless and hairless youth of seventeen, looking exactly
as he did just then. Everyone was worried about the demographic, social,
and political fallout of these trends as the end of the twenty-first
century approached.

"Well then, if things are so bad between you and your lover, and you relish
a bit of rough handling, why not just sail away with me? Cruise the seas
for a month or so, then you can be on your way when we return to port in
Aden. Or maybe you could visit my resort in the Socotra Archipelago. Do you
need anything from the schooner?"

"Well, my clothes of course. I can't just take off stark naked."

"Of course you can. I am sure that you don't bother much with clothing on a
sea cruise anyway.You are one of those modern Western boys who obviously
likes to run around naked much of the time, to judge from your all over tan
and hairless physique. More than bit of an exhibitionist, I would guess,
especially from the passive way you let me touch you and examine you, even
hurt you a bit. Well here is your chance to live out a fantasy from the
Arabian Nights, to serve as a nude cabin boy aboard a sailing dhow, to go
on a long voyage with an Arab sheik bound for foreign parts."

"I am a rich man, as you can see. I can guarantee passage back home after
your vacation. I also promise to keep you naked the whole time
too. Naturally I expect you will let me play with your delectable body. You
were born to be a sex toy, Sean. Anyone can see that. I can train you in
the arts of an oriental houri boy, to let you live a true-life Arabian
Nights fantasy. Doesn't my idea appeal to you, Sean, sailing away on my
boat, stark naked without access to any clothing at all?"

It was a wild idea, but one Sean found exciting and attractive. How
outrageous and sexy it would be to take off like that wearing nothing more
than his suntan.  What a voyage it would be sailing all the way to Socotra
in the Arabian Sea off the tip of the Horn of Africa, over 3000 kilometers
(nearly 2000 miles).  The people on every vessel they encountered would see
how pretty and sexy Sean looked in the altogether, utterly hairless.

And why not accept the offer of an extended stay? He had nearly two months
till classes started.He rather liked the idea of being an on-board sex toy
for an Arab sheik. What had the captain called him, a houri boy? How sexy
that sounded. How exciting it would be to be trained as a houri boy for
sexual service. And Sayid had promised that he would keep Sean stark naked
for the entire trip. He also promised to spank him, to whip him and to cane
his ass.

On the spur of the moment, Sean decided he would do it, to sail away with
him just as he had arrived, a nude mer-boy plucked from the sea. As Captain
Sayid pointed out Sean did not actually need anything from aboard the
schooner. The captain could provide him with clothing when the time came to
return home. Meanwhile he had no need for clothing or anything else he had
left on the schooner.

The RFID chip implanted in Sean's right arm was his passport, wallet,
driver's license, health insurance card, etc. Any standard reader could
access his account information, medical records, and so forth and make
transfers with a proper PIN or password from Sean or from a fingerprint or
even a retinal scan. He hadn't brought along a phone or comp. On a vacation
cruise the last thing you wanted to do was keep in touch or up with the
news.

"Shouldn't we let them know that I am on board your yacht. They might think
I drowned or something."

"Of course we should, and we shall, but you don't want an ugly
confrontation with your boyfriend just now, do you, shouting across the
water, recriminations? We can call later, when the others are up and
about."

Sean agreed to this suggestion too. How neat a way to turn the tables on
Randy like that, to give him the brushoff and go off with another sugar
daddy. Sean would sail away to fabled Arabia to the land where frankincense
grew. Randy's notions about chastity for a healthy seventeen year old male
were a crock. What a loser, though what did that say about Sean's own
judgment in men.

The whole thing appealed to the wild streak in the boy, taking off like
that stark naked and all. Talk about traveling light! Here he was taking
off in just his skin. He would submit himself to whatever sexual adventures
his master Sayid had in mind for his new houri boy. What a concept. He
clutched himself down there and shook with lustful excitement. He rubbed
his butt cheeks anticipating the welts that the cane and the lash would put
on those grapefruit shaped protuberances.

The naive youth did not consider how sailing off like that might put him
completely in the man's power. Sean hadn't wanted to talk to Randy even by
radio, so he simply accepted his host's assurance later that morning that
he had called the other vessel. Fortunately Sayid had called over to let
them know the boy was all right. There was no point getting the local coast
guard looking for a boy who had just dumped an overly possessive
partner. Sayid also let Sean send a message to his folks via email. Now the
world would not worry that little Sean had drowned or been taken by a
shark.

Sayid hoped and fully expected to take advantage of Sean's naivete and
seduce him not only into his bed but also into his gay resort which made
pretty boys available as companions to his guests, but this was no
kidnapping or disappearance. Sayid paid his boys well for their services.

			Chapter 2. The Red Sea

The dhow did a circuit of the Aegean islands though they did not go ashore
except once at a notorious nude beach. They did sometimes lay along side
other boats to socialize. Sean wasn't the only nude boy among those folk,
but he was much the prettiest. Sayid always introduced Sean as a mer-boy he
had plucked naked from the sea. Everyone found the tale of their encounter
charming and sexy. Sean accepted their attentions and caresses as no more
than was due to his beauty. He certainly did not object to being
touched. Pretty boys who ran around in the nude could hardly complain when
boy lovers gave him their attentions.

Sayid was not possessive and did not mind if Sean slipped away for a romp
with another pretty boy. That blue-eyed Irish boy on the money manager's
yacht had been especially appealing with his peaches and cream complexion
and red hair. They had made love in the hold but the yacht's master had
lifted the hatch cover so all could witness their lusty joining. The randy
boys ignored the jests and advice flung at them from above and thoroughly
enjoyed themselves, deliberately prolonging their intimate session. They
were only a little self-conscious as they mingled with the others
afterwards, although it was a bit embarrassing when an older man pointed to
the cum seeping out of Sean's hole and down his thighs.

After passing through the Dodecanese Islands, they headed southeast to
Suez. The inspector at the Canal did raise an eyebrow at a nude cabin boy,
but a bribe hushed any concerns he might have had on that score.

The Red Sea is the world's northernmost tropical sea, some 2250 km long
(1400 miles) and 350 km wide (220 miles) at its widest. Although the median
trench is deep, there are also extensive shallow shelves noted for their
marine life and corals. Although the White Sea is that color from winter
ice and the Yellow Sea is tinted by the load of yellow silt deposited by
the Yellow River, there is nothing red about the waters of the Red Sea.

Sean loved swimming in its waters. Their high concentration of salt buoyed
him up; he didn't even have to scull his hands. As good a swimmer as he
was, his trim muscular physique was not made for floating. He had too
little body fat to keep him afloat. He loved swimming in the warm waters,
comforted by the thought of the crew member with a rifle on guard for the
approach of sharks. Finding yourself in the water with a shark, especially
when you were stark naked, can make you feel very mortal and vulnerable.
You suddenly realize that for all your skill as a swimmer, for all that
your friends called you 'mer-boy', that it is the shark who was in his
element, and the pretty human boy in the water merely a visitor and just
maybe on the menu.

Sometimes he and Sayid explored the coral reefs, donning rebreathers so
they could stay down a long time. It was like visiting a fantasy world of
creatures with strange shapes and vivid colors. They even explored a couple
of old wrecks disintegrating on the bottom though they did not find any
treasure. They stopped at several points along the coast including the
Farasan Islands and the Dahlak Archiepelago, both noted for their coral
reefs. Sayid wore modest swim trunks for these dives though of course the
boy stayed naked.

Sean soon found out that Sayid was quite serious about his duties as a
cabin boy. Not only did he have to attend the captain as a body servant cum
valet and to entertain him in bed. He actually was put to work as if he
were another sailor. Not that he complained. Never a lazy boy, Sean was
hard working and dutiful, so he lent a hand for whatever needed doing,
happy to throw his wiry strength into hauling on a line, to shifting cargo,
or even scrubbing the deck.

The crew loved to watch little Sean at that task, on his knees, pushing a
scrub brush back and forth, a nude sailor boy, taut brown butt cheeks
flexing, crinkly hole visible in between, genitals dangling between his
slender thighs, back and shoulder muscles rippling as he thrust forward and
back. Almost like being on all fours to get pronged. Sean knew they were
watching and knew that he was the captain's sex toy. Rather than be
embarrassed, he simply spread his knees farther apart, giving them a better
look at his boy hole and the dangly bits hanging between his slender
thighs.

Sean liked being useful, not just ornamental. The crew was the minimum size
for such a large modern dhow. Though lateen sailed it used a standard wheel
and tiller, not steering oars and the lines were controlled by winches
under computer control. With modern electronics, GPS navigation and
autopilot, only one sailor needed to be on watch in the off hours. Although
all the crew were fully trained seamen and rotated duties, they also acted
as servants. The captain did not take them to his bed.

In fact his voyage was supposed to be a rest, a change of pace from his
daily cares and practices as a resort owner and boy brothel master. Though
quite lucrative, the business was actually something of a hobby for a man
of inherited wealth like Sayid.

Sean found himself under the man's spell, responding to his masculine
strength, his sexual prowess, his imaginative style of sex play. He
introduced Sean to light bondage, tying his wrists behind him and turning
the boy over his knee while he spanked him. Sometimes he strung Sean up by
his wrists for a mock flogging for some supposed infraction of the
rules. Sean struggled theatrically as the youthful crewmen spread his
ankles apart and tied them to rings set in the deck. He groaned as they
added weights to a thong tied around his ball sac.  The cat of nine-tails
looked fearsome enough, but it merely left red welts. There were no bits of
metal in the knots at the end that would tear the flesh as in days of
old. Still it did sting as the thongs bit into his ass and back and thighs
and chest.

Sayid had sensed that the moderate pain only turned the boy on. Sean
actually challenged Sayid to add more weight to his tormented balls to show
that he could take it. Sayid responded, hanging another steel sphere and
letting two kilos (four pounds) fall to the end of their tether really
yanking on the boy's tackle. Sayid liked the way the boy's rib and belly
muscles worked as he gasped and breathed and struggled to accept the
torment. Sayid pulled the boy's face forward and they kissed passionately,
tongues dueling.

Sean hissed when the older man snapped mean looking alligator clamps on his
nipples but watched fascinated as blood trickled down his ribs. It turned
him on being strung up like that, so helpless and stretched out, his small
body utterly vulnerable. Sayid would slick some blood up on a fingertip and
offer it to the boy. He liked to paint his lips red with it. Indeed, Sayid
like to have a boy taste all his own bodily fluids, blood and urine,
pre-ejaculate and gism, sweat and tears. And the boy thrived on this rough
regimen, hopelessly in lust with his new master and all the exciting
experiences he was having with him.

Of course, dominant though he was, Sayid would never do anything to
actually injure or permanently mark the boy. Who would want to really
injure such a beautiful creature as Sean. What greater sin could there be
than to mar and spoil such youthful beauty. Not to mention he needed to
keep the boy lovely for his potential clients. Sayid had not mentioned any
of that to the boy yet. He would wait till after they reached Yemen to
broach the idea to him. He sincerely hoped he could persuade to boy to work
for him, at least for a few years. He knew the boy had very little money of
his own. A few years as a houri boy would make provide for him comfortably.

Sayid liked to have Sean fall on his knees and worship his manhood. His
cock was like a club, long and thick and laced with angry veins just under
the skin. He liked Sean to start by licking the shaft of his cock, letting
the tip of the tongue trace the veins from his groin to his cockhead. He
often clubbed the boy's face with his massive member, making him reach for
it, to kiss and smooch his purple helmet and lick around the flange. He
told him how exciting it was for him to have a boy of such delicate beauty
to play with.

"How pretty you look down there, Sean, so small and submissive, with those
pouty lips of yours around my cock, sucking and slurping. Yes, look into my
eyes, little one, see the man who turns your mouth and throat into a
quim. Breathe in through your nose and take in the scent of a real man. You
belong like this, on your knees, my little infidel, naked and hairless as
any girl, serving a real man, a macho man."

Of course Sean lived for when his master took his ass. Sayid was actually
quite gentle with the lad when they really made love. To his surprise the
sheik found he was growing quite fond of the boy, their sexual relationship
aside. He caught the boy's gaze and smiled at him as he reached to his
belly and loosened his sarong and let it fall. The boy's bright green eyes
always opened wide in a comical fashion at he took in the sight of how
hugely endowed the sheik was, incredibly potent with a cock like a
truncheon. In length it was nearly twice the span of the boy's small hands.

"Why are you trembling Sean?" He teased. "Afraid or just from
anticipation?"

"I guess I am always a little afraid, sir. You are so huge. I am so small,
really tiny back there. You better than anyone knows how tight my hole
is. I always want you sir, but I know that is will hurt too."

"Yes it does hurt some; that is unavoidable, little thing that you are, but
I am always careful, as you know. And as always, the initial pain soon
turns to pleasure when you are with a man who knows how to make love to a
boy. Trust me Sean. I am giving you the best fucking of your young life."

"Yes, sir, I know that, but please be gentle with me."

"Always with a delicate blossom like you, Sean."

He laid the boy on his back and stretched out atop his slender
form. Sayid's first kisses were soft even tentative, the ones that followed
were urgent, demanding. He was all over Sean, his long dark hair framing
his handsome face as he drank in the youth pressed to him. Sean responded,
pressing their tumescent members together, murmuring words of passion as
his arousal consumed him. Hands cupped buttocks, the blade of Sayid's hand
slid into the lad's cleavage, fingers pushed a lubricating oil into the
hole, preparing the lad for the fuck. Lips locked so hard Sean couldn't
breathe. The man was virtually crushing him.

He gasped for air, turned his head and started to lick Sayid's large
nipples, then snuffled his armpits straining the hair there with his
teeth. When the boy's tongue reached the big man's belly button he started
to breathe faster. He ruffled Sean's hair and pushed him lower, demanding
service. The youth turned his face to the giant cock straining upward from
a wiry bush and started to lick away the drops welling out of the tiny slit
at the end.  This drew approving moans from the sheik, as his penis
vanished into a velvet warmth that was his boy's mouth. The boy gently
gnashed it with his teeth, tugging on the glans with soft sucks. The older
man thrust his hips forward and squirmed, tossing his head. When the hard
member was coated and slick, Sayid put the boy's slender legs onto his
shoulders. Making love face to face was a joining to two persons not just
two bodies.

"I can't wait," Sayid said, his face flushed with ardor. "I am going to
fuck you now."

"Take me. I want you inside me. I need you, all of you, as deep as you can
go. Take me, possess me, make me your boy."

With just a little push from his hips to get past the first sphincter,
Sayid's cockhead slipped into Sean's ass, eliciting a gasp from the
boy. Sayid paused, letting his small lover get used to his huge girth. He
pushed forward, slipping into him little by little, his arms supporting his
weight. When he was a deep as he could go, he was rewarded with a blissful
sigh from his partner. Again the sheik gave the lad time to get used to his
girth, then started to pump slowly in and out.

They fell into a rhythm, Sean raising his rump to meet the descending shaft
as it penetrated his ass, using his internal muscles to squeeze the
invading penis, both males sweating profusely. He responded as the boy on
the bottom begged him to go deeper and faster.

Sean loved it when his master's monster cock touched his joy spot, no his
prostate, as he had learned to call it. As the invading shaft stimulated
the prostate, his whole body shuddered helplessly. His lithe torso rippled
in a wave that started at his ass and traveled up past the hips and back
and shoulders to the head, a reflex action indicative of overwhelming
lust. Sean felt his guts clutch in an internal orgasm.  His green eyes
blinked and rolled sightlessly and lost focus as he surrendered himself to
the good feelings coursing through him. As the shaft fell into a rhythm of
penetration and withdrawal, the sensation became overwhelming. He lost the
ability for rational thought for the duration. His body was tempest tossed
on a sea of sensation, the blood pounding at his temples, his boy cock as
stiff as he could ever remember.

It went on and on, the thrusting and the plunging, Sayid's masculinity
pushing into the boy deeper than he had ever felt, till, in the fullness of
time, the boy felt a wet warmth flooding his bowels as the sheik, his lord
and master in every sense, spewed his seed deep within him, setting off
Sean's own passionate ejaculation onto his chest and belly. The big man
eased his weight off the small form of his lover and lay at his side,
stroking the lovely mer-boy, slicking some of his own cum on a finger and
presenting it to him. Sean's tongue flicked out and licked up the treasured
fluid, coating his teeth and gums with it, so he would keep the taste of it
in his mouth and in his breath just as Sayid liked.

Sean sighed in the afterglow of their lovemaking. He would do anything for
this man. Like most teenagers, he had once thought he had invented
sex. Sayid had shown him just how wrong that notion was.

"Sayid. What is it with the sarongs on your crew. Surely that is not
authentically Arabic dress, is it?"

"Ah, a scholar speaks. Your beauty sometimes makes me forget how
intelligent and well read you are. Actually you are correct. The sarong is
more characteristic of the lands of South and Southeast Asia. I like it on
a boy, since it emphasizes the rump, but it is also practical, simple, and
very pretty. It comes in a near infinite variety of patterns and colors. I
understand the sarong is quite popular in the West too."

"Yes, it is. All the young guys wear sarongs."

"When they bother with any clothing at all."

They laughed.

"Actually, we of the umma, the community of believers, are enjoined not to
bare the male physique from waist to knee. So it keeps the religious
authorities from objecting to the way I dress the crew."

"What about me. I am totally naked."

"Ah, but you are an infidel, little one, meaning no offense. And though
houri boys may sometimes wear diaphanous loose trousers, they are often
entirely nude, as you shall be."

"I like the sound of that. Houri boy. Does it mean..."

"No, despite the similarity of sound, the Arabic word houri has nothing to
do with the English word whore. Actually now that we are in Yemeni waters,
I think it would be a good time to broach a proposal I have for you."

Sayid then outlined his offer to Sean to train him to work for Sayid in his
high class gay resort on the island of Socotra. He knew that Sean had felt
out of place in his freshman year at college, a diligent studious boy, two
years younger than most and much smaller, with no money to spend on fun
things. It had been hard to make friends, real friends, not just meet boys
who wanted him for sexual gratification.

Shocked at first but then intrigued, Sean told Sayid that he would think
about his offer. Meanwhile, the boy was welcome as the sheik's guest. It
went without saying that he would also be the man's sex toy and occasional
whipping boy too.

			Chapter 3. Socotra

They stopped at Aden, normally the dhow's home port, taking a seaplane from
there to the main island. The monsoon season from June to September brings
strong winds and high seas that make the sea passage to Socotra hazardous.

Socotra is a small archipelago of four islands in the Indian Ocean off the
Horn of Africa and some 190 nautical miles (220 mi/350 km) south of the
Arabian peninsula. It belongs to the Republic of Yemen.  The main island is
a little over 130 km (80 miles) long east to west and typically 30 or so
kilometers (20 miles) north to south. Socotra, once part of the
supercontinent of Gondwana, is one of the most isolated landforms on Earth
of continental origin (meaning it was not volcanic in origin). The climate
is generally tropical desert, with light, seasonal rain in the winter, with
more falling on the higher ground of the interior than on the coastal
lowlands.

"Why do you live on Socotra, Sayid, when you could live anywhere?"

"I love the island, even though I am originally from the mainland, near the
port of Mukalla. Socotra is like no other place on earth. It is a jewel of
biodiversity in the Arabian sea. The long geological isolation of the
archipelago and its fierce heat and drought have created a unique and
spectacular flora including the dragon's blood tree, which are those
strange-looking, umbrella-shaped growths over there. The ancients called
its red sap 'dragon's blood' which was much sought after as a medicine and
dye. I should explain that botany is one of my hobbies. The island is also
rich in bird life, though the only mammal native to these islands is the
bat."

"Also the fierce heat is a good excuse for the guests and the boys at my
resort to run around naked much of the time or to bathe in the sea or the
swimming pools." Sayid said with a smile and a fond caress of Sean's
incomparable ass.

Upon landing, officials looked a bit askance at the nude blond boy on board
the seaplane, but the sheik's business was well-known in those parts, so it
was not really a surprise that he was accompanied by a naked foreign boy,
obviously his latest recruit. Sean did feel self-conscious standing before
uniformed port officials entirely naked especially when he had to admit
that he had traveled from Greece without any personal effects whatsoever,
no clothing, no equipment, nothing. Just a naked boy on a boat. The
ultimate in come-as-you-are.

Questioned about his purpose in traveling to Yemen, as he had been coached,
Sean said he was there to work for the sheik in his establishment. That
kept his options open for actually taking a job as a houri boy. Persons
entering on tourist visas could not legally work in the country. Only those
with scarce skills were permitted work permits.

Challenged as to what his scarce skills might be, Sean flushed and
stammered. The senior official pointed to the floor, so the boy fell to his
knees, as ordered, and demonstrated his oral skills to both
officials. Knowing he had to impress these men, Sean did not settle for a
perfunctory job of it, but used all his skill in sucking and deep throating
their engorged members. Still not satisfied, despite getting the best blow
jobs of their lives, they told the youth to bend over a desk so they could
probe him for contraband.

"Is that really necessary, sir? What contraband can a naked boy like me
smuggle into your country?" Sean asked with some exasperation.

"Tut, tut, little one. We are just doing our duty," the man explained
unconvincingly.

Sean could hardly object, having claimed he was there to work for the sheik
as a joy boy. With a certain amount of ill-grace he reached back and spread
his cheeks to provide access to the lustful officials. They fingered and
lubed his hole, and it was good they did. Both were well-endowed, their
cocks long and pendulous. They plowed the boy to the depths, squelching and
thrusting, marveling in how tight the boy's nether hole was. Neither was
particularly rough with him. Indeed, Sean's beauty inspired not only lust
but a certain tenderness toward the pretty lad. After all, aside from
perfunctory objections, the boy had given them much satisfaction. To
celebrate the occasion, they took a set of pictures as souvenirs: the boy
standing between them their arms over his shoulders as well as single shots
front and back. These would let them relive their experience with the boy.

Sayid had waited patiently outside the office and greeted Sean with a
sardonic look, one eyebrow raised. He smiled at the boy's flush but clapped
him reassuringly on the shoulder. Boys will be boys. They climbed into a
utility wagon for the short trip out of town to his resort.

The resort was a marvel of late twenty-first century architecture and
technology incorporated within traditional looking structures. It used the
latest in desalinization technology for fresh water, wind towers and sea
water channels in the limestone rock to cool the air indoors, and solar
electricity to supplement the lines drawing current from a wave power
station farther down the coast. Mostly two stories tall and set into
limestone slopes just above the shore, it sprawled its way across many
handsomely landscaped hectares with dragon trees planted everywhere. It
boasted salt and freshwater swimming pools, a sandy beach, a gym, bungalows
and a main hotel, and a cabaret, bar, restaurant complex in the center. The
whole atmosphere was gay and all but the fanciest of the three restaurants
was clothing optional.

Most of the staff were foreign workers from a dozen countries. Virtually
all were male and most gay. Out of respect for Moslem sensibilities, there
were no females and indeed few who professed the faith of their prophet. It
was a foreign enclave in an out of the way island

All his staff were young males dressed in no more than sarongs while inside
the compound though many put on more modest attire when they left the
premises. Sean of course stayed on the premises entirely naked.

Still, now that he was back on the island, the sheik had less time to spend
with the young American. He had a business to run and investments to
manage. In between their lovemaking sessions and their quiet evenings
together, Sean had time on his hands. He spent hours on the net keeping in
touch with friends and events, and he even started learning Arabic.

Never an idler, Sean asked to help with the gardening. The sheik's resort
used drip irrigation to grow fresh produce for his establishment. Mornings
soon found little Sean happily engaged in growing fruits and vegetables.

Sean genuinely liked his horitcultural chores: planting, seeding, hoeing,
weeding, pruning, staking, watering, whatever. It was deeply satisfying to
tend to plants, to make things grow, to grub his hands in the soil piling
dirt around celery stalks so they would turn white. The naked blond boy
could often be found kneeling on the ground, brown cheeks resting on bare
feet, tanned skin glistening with sweat, lithe torso bent over, ribs and
spinal bumps prominent as, trowel in hand, he worked at his mundane task
firm muscles playing under the skin.

The boy seemed unmindful that in the desert heat the sweat would run in
rivulets off his back, down to his ass and sluice suggestively into his
deep cleavage. The way the sun reflected off him made him positively glow
with good health and desireability. He looked like he was virtually
bursting with vitality, a fine specimen of the human animal.

"So this is the boy you have been bragging about. Yes, he is quite
extraordinarily beautiful."

"The prettiest and sexiest lad I have ever taken to bed." the skeik
affirmed with conviction.

"What are those faint welts on his back and ass?"

"From his latest whipping. Alas the lad is often naughty and needs to be
punished for his infractions." the sheik replied, shaking his head sadly
with mock regret.

Sean turned to see the skeik and an older European man watching him
work. The man was about forty, in good shape, with a strong rather than a
handsome face.

"You are a lucky man Sayid, my friend, the way you just plucked him out of
the sea, a naked mer-boy. I would pay much for such a boy."

"The boy is a free agent, Gianni. He is here as my guest, and is certainly
not for sale. The old days and the old ways are over with."

"Of course, of course," the man replied -- perhaps a little too hurriedly
to be totally sincere.

Sean smiled up at the master of the household then went back to his
task. Sayid stood beside him and caressed his golden locks. Sean turned his
face up to Sayid and let Sayid rub his cheek. The contact felt good. Sean
was content with the simplicity of his life at the compound. He kept busy,
his Arabic was improving, and the sheik was still clearly besotted with him
and vice versa. He shared a bungalow with Sayid who lived on the premises,
though Sean had his own room where he could be alone when he needed to be.

For his part Sayid was glad not only for the fantastic sex but for the
companionship. The boy was intelligent if not worldly wise. Sayid could
talk things over with him at length, for Sean was a good listener. Even if
the boy had no practical suggestions, just talking about his problems often
clarified Sayid's options. If Sean's political opinions and social views
were a little idealistic and naive, well, that could be excused by his
extreme youth. His was a refreshing presence in the sheik's world.

Sean spent much of his time outdoors, swimming at the beach or pools,
running, sunning, reading in the shade during the hottest part of the
day. He liked to be out and about, to take in fresh air, to let everyone
watch him and admire and lust after his sexy body. Sometimes he let himself
get carried away with his enthusiasm.

One of his fantasies had always been to prance down a crowded city street
wearing just a sheen of sweat, his manhood tumescent, sticking straight
out, a string of precum hanging from the head of his cock, all purple and
swollen. How terrific that would be! A pretty boy in heat, cock proud and
strutting along, whirling so everyone could see him from every side. He
never had the guts to try it at home, but at the resort, why not? It was a
gay resort after all.

So one day Sean went ahead and strutted his stuff, spinning around as he
walked to show his sexy body in a state of full arousal. Sean liked the way
his hairless groin made his genitals look larger, though they were a pretty
fair size for someone with his slight build.  He looked so sexy with his
ball sac pulled tight to the fork of his legs, engorged cock jutting
straight out with a fleshy purpled glans shaped like an arrowhead at the
end, a droplet of fluid glistening on its tip, a composition bursting with
youthful male assertiveness. Needless to say he drew the attention and the
ministrations of more than one guest that afternoon.

Sean's lubricious display of concupiscence was recorded by quite a number
of guests and disseminated over the web. Gosh, what did that say about
him. He was turning into such a boy slut these days. Still a naughty boy of
seventeen as pretty as Sean can be forgiven a bit of vanity and
exhibitionism, though Sayid did not spare the rod that afternoon.

Life was good. The only cloud on the horizon was that soon he had to make a
decision on whether to take the man he already addressed as master up on
his offer of employment as a houri boy. Otherwise he would have to leave
soon to return to college.

It was a very attractive offer. Sayid had assured him that Sean would clear
at least half a million New Dollars, U.S., in two years. The clientele were
rich and not only paid well but tipped well. Sean would not see any money
till the end of his term of employment. It would be banked for him and held
in trust.

It felt good living without possessions. He had never been much attached to
things anwyay. People yes, knowledge yes, material things no. Sean had all
he needed at the resort: a comfortable room, a tasty and healthy diet,
opportunities for sports, fun, and learning. He had made friends among the
staff of the resort and romped with them and others. Sean was a popular lad
who did not abuse his position as Sayid's favorite or put on airs. It is
kind of hard to keep your nose in the air when you are prancing around in
the nude, especially on those days when everyone could see the welts and
bruises that occasionally marked your skin.

Many of the boys had seen Sean in the mock dungeon where the master and
patrons of the resort inflicted mild tortures and punishments on their
boys. The 'slave boys' often compared welts and bruises, proud that they
had been able to take what the patrons had dished out. Of course many
patrons brought their own lads or used those Sayid provided just for sexual
fun, no rough stuff.

Sean did like it a bit rough, though within reason. For his part, Sayid was
happy to indulge Sean's slave boy fantasies. He loved spanking or caning
his boy and watching those perfect buns turn red. The fire in his belly
really got going when Sayid and one of his muscleman helpers strung Sean up
with ropes or put him in shackles. The youth too trembled with both lust
and fear as they rendered him helpless, blindfolded and gagged,
spread-eagled and vulnerable, both men chuckling evilly at the 'fiendish
tortures' the hapless lad would suffer at their hands, all the while
mocking him for his small size, his lack of manly body hair, teasing him
for the string of pre-ejaculate depending from his plumped up cock. This
was a boy who was asking for it, who needed it bad.

And they were there to see that he got it. They particularly liked using
the plasma globe which inflicted a stinging spark anywhere on a boy's
anatomy. Blindfolded and gagged, poor Sean could only writhe helplessly as
they brought the device near his luscious body. The whole while, it made a
crackling and humming sound. Sean could sense its approach to his ass, his
flanks, his belly, and especially to his rigidly erect cock and hairless
balls. No part of the boy was spared as he was repeatedly touched and
stung, till he hung in his bonds whimpering and crying.

Then before he hardly knew it was happening, Sayid thrust his truncheon of
a cock into him, impaling Sean on his manhood, stimulating his prostate
with his strokes, making the boy wild with desire, shuddering and
moaning. Sayid's thrusts and his manipulation of Sean's cock often let them
climax simultaneously. For Sean, his time with Sayid was the best sex he
had ever had.

Finally, one day, Sayid asked Sean to make up his mind. Was he going to
stay on at the resort as an employee, or return to the States? Sean's main
reservation was not about having to accept clients who did not turn him on,
but how he would explain this change in his plans to his folks. As
accepting as they were about their gay son, learning that he intended to
work as a rent boy for two years, selling his body and charms would not be
welcome news, no matter how lucrative the proposition or how up-scale the
clients were.

His video conference with his folks was painful. The main proposition
aside, they could only shake their heads when Sean mentioned that one of
the attractions of the job was the chance to stay stark naked continuously
for the next two years. But once past it, he turned optimistically to the
future, sure they would forgive him when he returned to the States in two
years' time.

Although he often had sex with Sayid, Sean now shared rooms with the other
boys, three to a room. It was very much like being in a college dorm. All
the lads were in late teens to mid twenties and from all parts of the
globe. His roommates were Ahmed, a sloe eyed boy from North Africa, and
Jules, a French kid from near Marseille, both eighteen. Both boys spoke
Arabic, giving Sean a natural immersion experience in that language. Even
though the others wanted to improve their English, Sean insisted on
reciprocity. They would switch languages on alternate days. Any infractions
from that rule were punished by a swat or two on the rump with tawse kept
handy for that purpose. The offender had to bend over, grab his ankles and
take one swat from each boy in the room.

Occasionally the brief punishment really amounted to foreplay as the bent
over boy was put to a better use. Sean liked sex with pretty boys like
himself about as much as with strong masterly types like Sayid. Each type
excited him, though in a different way. Sex with another boy was a
delight. Sex with a man like Sayid is a craving, a need. With a boy, he
felt energized as they jumped into bed. With a man he got all weak and
submissive, ready to drop to his knees and worship, even to submit to light
to moderate bondage and discipline.

Among themselves the boys on staff called their section of rooms 'The
Harem', though Sayid seldom sought out anyone except Sean himself and
always took him to his own bungalow. Many boys emulated Sean in staying
naked all the time, challenged by Sean's intention to stay nude for more
than two years.

Guests booked the boys for their exclusive use three days at a time. During
that time, the lads were expected to be at their beck and call for both
companionship and sex. The boys were expected to be good conversationalists
not just sex toys. Most of the clients were in their thirties and forties
and mostly in decent shape. They liked to have boys about when swimming,
diving, playing volleyball, and other sports, for meals, and for dancing
and sex in the evenings. Many were men of importance, glad for the chance
to unburden themselves of their cares with a boy who did not have an axe to
grind and would never be judgmental. It was usually very pleasant and
civilized, as Sean had observed for himself while still a personal guest of
the sheik.

Sean even took a few college course over the web, so he would have some
extra credits when he went back for his sophomore year.

Sean did feel a little uncomfortable around Sayid's business associate
Gianni Olivetti. Sayid sometimes assigned Sean to the man when he was on
the island, once every few months. Sean liked to act out slave boy
fantasies in the dungeon, but Gianni took his role as slave master a little
too seriously. It wasn't just that the man liked to whip Sean harder than
the other patrons, but his attitude seemed predatory rather more than his
role called for. With Sayid, he knew they were playacting, for all the
sting of the whips and the discomforts and welts and bruises their rough
sex play left. With Gianni, Sean felt like the man was holding himself back
because of the setting at the resort and his business relationship with
Sayid. If he ever got the boy alone and isolated, who knew how far he would
go?

One day, while Sayid was on the mainland at the capital, Olivetti asked
Sean to meet him at a secluded cove that evening. The moonlight gleamed on
the waters. Phosphorescence glowed where fish broke the surface. A carpet
was laid on the ground with wine and light refreshments. Sean sat down as
the older man talked and stroked his body, feeding him dates and pouring
him a glass of wine. Suddenly Sean felt woozy and found the man smiling
evilly at him. He had been drugged.

The next day found the boy at sea tied up in the rope locker of an old
fishing boat. Olivetti was a smuggler and had several such vessels
operating in these waters. Smuggling was a way of life in those parts of
the world. Why pay import and export duties on merchandise that greedy
governments had done nothing to procure or safeguard? He confronted the
boy.

"Now you belong to me, little one. No more games, no more rules, and no
more restraint, once I get you to my villa in the Aeolian Islands in the
Tyrrhenian Sea north of Sicily. We will not be disturbed there. Sayid
should have just sold you to me. All that nonsense about your being a free
agent, you a naked and hairless whore boy. I will make it up to him after
he cools down. After all, business is business."

"You are wrong, Gianni. Sayid will kill you. He loves me, and I love him."

The older man just buffeted the boy in the face with the back of his hand.

"You got that for disrespecting your master, little one. You must always
call me sir or master."

"Never! Sayid al Qu'ati is my lord and master."

"If he crosses me I will have him killed."

Two nights later, Sean heard shouting as the boat tried to pass through the
Strait of Bab al Mandeb, the Gate of Tears, at the southern end of the Red
Sea west of Aden. Suddenly something heavy crashed into the side of the
boat. It was Sayid's dhow ramming Gianni's fishing boat. The sheik had
known that Olivetti's boat must pass through the strait sooner or
later. Shots rang out from both boats, and men cursed and fought, but the
struggle was over quickly. The door to Sean's improvised brig was flung
open and the boy looked out, partly blinded by the sudden light.

"Sayid!" was all he said then fainted dead away.

Events moved swiftly after that. Sayid himself carried the boy he loved in
his arms onto his dhow, his men taking care to keep their prisoners under
guard. Gianni was dead, gunned down in cold blood really when he tried to
surrender. Sayid did not care for legal niceties in such situations and had
handled the matter himself. He had no intention of living the rest of his
life looking over his shoulder for whatever revenge Gianni might be able to
arrange from prison. And after all, the man and his crew had been armed, so
presumably ready to employ deadly force.

As a sheik of his tribe Sayid felt he had the authority of tradition and
custom on his side, even though he was not a government official. The
Yemeni government hushed up the incident. It would be bad for the country's
image and for tourism on which the economy was dependent. Sean was happy to
go along with the cover up too. It kept his parents in the dark about what
had nearly happened.

Sayid and Sean resumed their idyllic life together, their bond strengthened
by adversity. After two happy years, Sayid insisted that Sean return to
college to complete his education. A fine mind like his would be a terrible
thing to waste. Sean felt very strange putting clothing on after more than
two years continuously nude.

Sayid promised that the couple would get together again the next summer and
every summer after that. Too much time together could be bad for their
relationship, given their probable longevity. With several centuries of
youth ahead of them, they could afford a love affair taken in installments.
This was likely to be the pattern with all the long-lived of their
generation. Periodic separations would keep their relationships from going
stale. In between, it was likely they would meet other partners who
attracted them, but neither lover was possessive or clinging or
disapproving of such attachments. Whatever happened, they would always have
their happy memories of their exciting and satisfying time together at the
resort on Socotra.

For their part, Sean's parents were reassured by the new maturity they saw
in their son. Yes he looked no older, still no more than a very young
seventeen, but pretty boy looks notwithstanding, he now walked with the
self-assurance and carriage of a grown man.