Date: Sun, 7 Jun 2009 01:04:31 +0200 From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com> Subject: The Other Part of the World 1/16 (historical) ---------------------------- THE OTHER PART OF THE WORLD by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2009 written on January 12, 2002 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Bert Carley ----------------------------- USUAL DISCLAIMER "THE OTHER PART OF THE WORLD" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest. ----------------------------- Part I - Chapter 1 - Manoel in Santo Andr Rain was falling cold and incessant, covering all of nature with a light veil. The wagon loaded with provisions was slowly proceeding inland along the dirt road. On the driver's seat were sitting a man and a boy, totally wet, as the wagon had no cover. The only noises that could be heard were that of the rain pelts, the wagon's wheels squeaking and the paddling of the horse hoofs in the muddy road. In a while you'll get there boy. Try to talk personally with Mister Euclides Quadros Dutra, the fazenda master, as I explained to you. He is a generous man and he can possibly offer you a job. I'm sorry I can't take you with me, but my master's business is not going so well, and he is sacking people, surely not hiring! The boy nodded pensively. The man went on, Anyway, I hope I can meet you again, as I liked you, but be careful to sort yourself out if you want to remain there without problems, and don't forget it. The boy looked at him and asked, But do you think that there they would really give me a proper job? After all, I'm not really able to do much In a big and important fazenda like that of Mister Euclides, there is always something to do for a boy without any skill like you; it would be enough you work hard. The wagon proceeded for another stretch of the road to a crossroad and the man stopped the horse. Here, get off here. You see that drive? Follow it and you will get to the fazenda. Good luck, my boy. Thank you sir, thank you for everything. The boy answered jumping down from the wagon that immediately continued on. The boy passed a hand over his face to wipe the water that was dripping from his hair, had a shudder for the cold and looked at the wagon going away. When he had to run away from So Paulo, as the police were at that point on his tail, he followed the advice of one of his customers and went to Santo Andr. But there it had not been easy to make a living except for begging in the streets, pilfering at the markets, or when he was lucky, slipping a wallet from some passer-by's pocket. In fact Santo Andr was much smaller than So Paulo, and finding some customer ready to pay to take him in his bed was something not at all easy. He was already planning to move elsewhere when he met the man. "Hi," he said and asked him for some change, begging for alms. The man looked him up and down and said, with a serious expression, Money has to be earned, my boy! It doesn't grow on trees! The boy answered, I'd like to earn it, of course, but nobody wants to give me a job. So then, how can I manage? When one is hungry he must take a banana from a tree, even though he didn't grow it! What's your name, boy? the man asked, made curious by the pride the boy was showing with his answer. Manoel How old are you? I already turned sixteen. Don't you have a family? My mother was a prostitute and died giving birth to me, so the whore-house madam took me to the orphanage. And you, I bet, ran away from the orphanage, didn't you? You won the bet, sir. I ran away three years ago. Ah! And how did you manage to make a living in these three years? Making shifts The hungry cat steals the unattended lard, doesn't he? And if there is no lard to steal, he meows until somebody, so not to hear him any more, throws him some leftovers to eat And what if, when he meows, nobody listen to him? the amused man asked him. Then the cat rubs himself against a man's leg to become likeable to him if you understand what I mean. The man again looked him up and down, And you are a really nice kitten, I have to admit. You should have no difficulty in finding some men who find you likeable and that in change of your favours give you some coins. Am I not likeable in your eyes, by chance, sir? If I were kind with you, wouldn't you give me some coins? The man laughed and said, My word, you really are shrewd like a cat! Well Manoel, what do you think about coming with me and doing me some purrs? All you can desire, sir, for some reis The man took him to a small hours-hotel, paid for a room and took the boy in. It was a really small room containing only a bed and an earth ware small basin on a trivet with a jug of water underneath. They undressed and the man pushed Manoel on the mattress filled with maize leafs without a sheet. You have a nice little arse, Manoel. Did you already take some cocks in it? Not just a few, sir. Well then, get on all fours, as a good kitten, as I feel like giving you a good fuck. Wouldn't you like me to give you some head first? No, I like to come to the point. The man knelt behind the boy so as to mount him. Please put some spit on it sir; your tool is not a little thing. If you already took many, you should not have difficulty taking mine too. Yes, I took many, but I'm not used to taking them every day. Moreover, luckily for me, just a few men have one your size, sir. The man did as Manoel asked him, then seized him at the waist and started to push it inside him. The boy, who in these last three years had not had many such experiences, but he knew he had to relax as much as he could in order to not feel pain. He felt invaded with a constant push, without strokes, and thought that by chance the man seemed to know his business. When finally the man's pole filled him to the bottom, he started to move it back and forth with some vigour but without any hurry. Manoel started to make his hole throb and to lightly rotate his pelvis, as he knew that doing so would accelerate the man's orgasm and at the same time increase his own pleasure. The old wooden bed was creaking with each push from the man who soon started to underline each lunge with a chocked yes showing how much he was pleased with the fuck. The man's ride didn't last long. Manoel thought it had to be because it had been a long time since he had relieved himself as he liked to do. The strong and regular rhythm with which the man was taking him at a certain point broke, became disordered and stronger, until with a kind of low bellowing the man unloaded in him, pushing it in as deep as he could. Then the man slipped out of him, went to the basin to rinse his member that was softening, and put his trousers on again. He took from his pocket a cloth purse, took out some coins and gave them to the boy who meanwhile had dressed himself. Yes boy, you earned these coins. I enjoyed fucking your nice small arse, you are still tight enough. Do you come to Santo Andr often sir? No, it's quite seldom. Why? I was hoping to earn something being again with you No, and I don't think you will find enough customers here I was thinking it would be better if I move too Where, to, So Paulo? There you surely would find plenty of men ready to pay you for this kind of service. No, I had to leave So Paulo, and rather hurriedly. Ah, are you in some trouble there? Police discovered what I do to make a living and so You know that the law is not tender towards those like me. But do you like doing these things with men? Of course I do, I like it a lot. But unhappily not all the men are handsome and generous as you are sir Why don't you just look for a job? Would you hire me, sir? So, besides earning something with my work, I could at times withdraw with you, and I would hire you more than willingly, but I am only an employee, I can't decide to hire somebody. Moreover in the fazenda where I am working, the master is not hiring. But but you could try to ask for a job at Mister Euclides Quadros Dutra's fazenda. It is the biggest and richest in this region So now Manoel, while the wagon was pulling away under the persistent, boring rain, he walked along the drive the man had showed him. After a few metres he was in front of a brick arch, on its top the writing Fazenda Boa Sorte, meaning Good Luck Farm. Manoel wished this name would bring him good luck, as it read. He passed through the arch and went on walking along the drive. Suddenly, through the rain veil, he saw the faade of the mansion of the fazenda's owner. Drawing nearer he studied it. It was a clear yellow building, with the decorations and the doors and window frames were painted pearl grey. The central wing had just two very tall floors and ended in a triangular tympanum, a wide central arched door with five stone steps leading to it, and sided by two wide windows, also arched. At the upper floor there was a central balcony sided by another two wide arched windows. At the right and the left of the central body there were two wings, lower than the central part but with three floors, each with five rectangular windows at each floor and a central door in both the wings. In front of the elegant building the drive opened in a half circular space, wide as all the building, all bordered with trees. Manoel stopped for a moment looking agape - he never saw anything so big and elegant, not even in So Paulo, except possibly the Jesuits' church with the annexed college. For sure, he thought, this Mister Euclides has to be rich at least like our Emperor! While he was going towards the building central entrance, suddenly the rain stopped falling. Manoel did some more steps drawing nearer when the central door opened and three people came out. Meanwhile a coach pulled by two elegant horses came and stopped in front of the main entrance. I beg your pardon! Manoel yelled. What do you want boy - who are you? asked the older of the three men. He looked to be not yet fifty. May I please talk with Mister Euclides Dutras Quadro? the boy asked. The man smiled and answered, If you are looking for Euclides Quadros Dutra, he is just in front of you - I am him. Oh, forgive me Yes, but what do you have to tell me boy? Sir, I have no family and nobody looks after me, therefore I have to take care of myself. I've heard in Santo Andr that you could possibly offer me a job in your fazenda. Oh! And what are you able to do boy? the man asked. I? To be sincere, I am absolutely not able to do anything. But I'm ready and willing to do anything, to learn, to serve you in the best way I can, in exchange for a shelter, some food, a change of clothes and, if I am not asking too much, also a few coins to save. The youngest of the three men, who could be a couple years older than Manoel, intervened in a contemptuous tone, Get out of the way, ragamuffin! We have no time to waste with blokes like you that we don't know where they come from and what they are worth. Come on, Getulio, said the other young man, who could have just passed twenty years. Right, because we don't know him, shouldn't we give him the opportunity to show us what he is worth? Yes, the man intervened, I agree with you, Nicolau. But you boy are all wet and trembling like a leaf. We three now have to go to Santo Andr to confer with our banker, but will surely be back by supper time. You can meanwhile wait for us so we can talk about your request. Then the man called aloud, Idalina! A woman slave at once came out of the door of the right wing, drying her hands on the apron covering her wide and long skirt. At your orders, master! Take this boy in the kitchen, make him sit near the fireplace so that he can dry his clothes and if he is hungry, give him also some good food. Mister Euclides said, then with his two sons, climbed inside the coach and they left. Come son, come to warm yourself before your bones go bad. You should have got all the rain that fell, shouldn't you? the black woman said to Manoel. Well, it's so! Your name is Idalina, right? Yes, you have the ears, don't you? And you, son, should also have a name, I think. My name is Manoel Branco. And I bet that you also have such a hunger not to be more able to see, Manoel Branco. So much as not to be able to see far, but not so much not to see some food. The black cook burst into a merry laughter. They went inside the wide kitchen, full of copper pans and pots hanging everywhere, with three cupboards filled with tableware and a long table in the centre. In the middle of the longest wall in front of the entrance there was a huge fireplace where there were hanging two steaming cauldrons. Go and sit near the fire, Manoel Branco, and take this tankard of hot coffee, so that you can start warming inside. I will meanwhile fix you some food as the master said. Don't forget, Idalina, that your master told you to give me some 'good' food! Ah, what a glutton of a boy you are. Don't worry, in this house the food is always and only very good. Good also for you slaves? Well, for those working in the house, it is so, as I cook for everybody. Those working in the plantation well it depends how skilled they are cooking, but they don't miss the food. Manoel sipped the coffee and noticed it really was good, so he told it to the woman. She answered, Oh, the big discovery! Don't you know that this is one of the best, if not the very best coffee plantation of all our state? Don't you know that the Quadros Dutra family descends from the famous Franc"sco de Melo Palha? And who could be that Melo Palha? Oh my god! Where from are you dropping in? Is it possible that you don't know even such an important thing? Aren't you by chance a foreigner, are you? No, no, I'm Brazilian from head to toe, at least on my mother's side. And what it might be on your father's side? Who knows? My mother had to please too many men to know who made her pregnant with me. Eh? What are you telling me? Was by chance a prostitute, your mother? Good, Idalina, I see that you know the life. Oh! Poor son! And where is now your mother? She is under a metre of earth without even a cross on it because the whores can't have a funeral in a church. She died for my fault The cook widened her eyes, You killed her? You can say so, as she died right when she brought me into this world. Oh, Jesus Mary! It's not your fault - the fault is only on the bad luck. So, you are alone in this world? Who grew you up, some relatives? I really don't think I have any relatives, and even if I had some, they possibly wouldn't like to hear about me. I grew up in an orphanage in So Paulo. But when I was thirteen I ran away because I was tired eating so little, moreover something that seemed more fitted for pigs than for children, and I was also fed up getting a beating almost every day, and to sleep on a pallet on the floor. Oh, Holy Virgin! But then the slaves of this plantation have a better life! You were just right to run away, son! Here, take this dish and eat. If then you still feel hungry, just tell me, there is more of it. But, tell me Idalina, do you think that the master will give me a job? That's why you came here? Right so. The old master and his son Nicolau have a great heart. And the younger one, what's his name Getulio I think how is he? He's young, and you know how youths at times are Manoel ate with gusto, keeping the tin plate on his legs not to go away from the fireplace. From his clothes was starting to raise a thin cloud of steam as they were drying. After he carefully emptied the plate and cleaned it with a piece of good home made black bread, the boy turned towards the cook who was busying herself nearby. Isn't there some more food? Here in my belly there is still a small hole asking to be filled. The cook had a silvery laugh and said, I don't need being a soothsayer to know that possibly, to fill up that small hole you are telling about, would be good some bananas jam spread on a slice of good white bread! And possibly also a glass of wine? Manoel risked. At your age, already so vicious? the cook asked, pretending to be scandalised. Well then just half a glass? Wine, here, only the masters drink it! And possibly, in secret, also the servants A finger, not a drop more but don't tell the master. The cook said and went to the larder to take a bottle and pouring a little for the boy. Yes, Manoel said after slowly sipping the little but really good red wine, you really are a good cook. Ah, thank you for the compliment. It means that when you will be richer than my master, you will buy me. What do you think of it? Alright, just give me a few weeks! To do what? You don't even know if the master will give you a job! Isn't Boa Sorte the name of this fazenda? Since I set foot in here, I feel that really the good lady luck took away her blindfold and is smiling at me. Just think; it even stopped raining as soon as I came here! Ha, lady luck is madder than a goat in heat! If she is at present smiling you, be careful that she doesn't gore you in a few minutes. But tell me, Idalina, I saw the master and two of his sons. Does he have more children? And the house-lady, is she at home? No, the lady was an angel of the good Lord, but she died eleven years ago, before giving birth to the third child of the master and also the child died still in her. But you never dare to talk about this tragedy in this house, do you understand? But if they ask me about my mother, I have to say that she died giving me life. In my opinion you have not. Tell rather that she died for an accident when you were one year old. It doesn't change so much, but at least you don't make the masters recall the tragedy of the poor mistress. How is the master? I think he is the best master one could desire to have, who works seriously. He doesn't miss anything. Later Idalina's son, a handsome big boy in his twenties, came into the kitchen. Are you the white boy who came to ask a job to the master? His mother answered, Hoi, Lucas, how many white boys do you see in this kitchen? Of course he is, silly boy! Come with me, then, Master Euclides wants to talk with you. Manoel readily stood up. The cook threw him a smile and said, Good luck, Manoel Branco. Lucas led Manoel out of the kitchen. They crossed the great hall of the mansion and Manoel looked around with wide eyes - it was huge. On a side there was the beautiful entrance door sided by the two windows, with coloured stained glass, in front of it a double stairway in sculpted wood leading to the upper floor, and on the two other sides of the hall there were three beautiful wooden doors on each. In the hall there were pots with beautiful plants, elegant sofas padded in crimson red velvet, and consoles with beautiful objects displayed. The walls were papered with costly paper-prints and big paintings were hanging on the walls. Heck, it's more beautiful than a cathedral here! Manoel exclaimed in a low voice, almost in awe for such opulence. I never went in a cathedral, but I too think that here is really beautiful And if you saw when there is a party the slave returned. The masters have to be really rich. I really think so, they have a hundred and eighty-seven male slaves to work in the plantation, without counting us who work in the house. Lucas opened the central door on the other side and they were in a wide corridor. He guided Manoel in front of a door. Master Euclides studio is here, he is waiting for you. the slave said. He then knocked at the door. Come in! a voice yelled from inside. Lucas opened the door and pushed forward the boy, then shut the door at his back. The studio was wide, there were two windows looking at the faade, with lace curtains framed by green velvet heavy curtains. On the left side there was a big bookshelf covering the entire wall, and on the right side, under the portrait of a beautiful and elegant lady, was an imposing desk behind which was sitting master Euclides, a not yet lit cigar in his lips. Come nearer, boy. Sit on that chair. The man said, carefully looking at him. Manoel, feeling somewhat intimidated, went in front of the desk and sat on the chair that the man showed him. Well, boy, first of all, what's your name and who are you? I, sir, I am Manoel Branco and I am an orphan looking for a job. An orphan? How old are you? Sixteen, sir. And at sixteen, they already let you leave the orphanage without finding work for you? Really, sir I, to tell the truth In short, you ran away from the orphanage, isn't it so? Well, yes but Why did you run away from there? Weren't you well treated? A pallet, this clothing, something to eat I never missed them, but Didn't you like the discipline? The discipline? There were rules, of course, but even if one tried to comply to them. Every other day, one got a good thrashing. Without a good reason? Sir, if getting up in night time to go to the loo is against the rules, what can a boy do? If he gets up and he is caught, it was ten cane strokes, but if he doesn't get up and so he dirties his pallet, he gets thirty cane strokes therefore one gets up hoping not to be caught How long did you live in there? For thirteen years, sir. Well, if this is the case I think you weren't wrong to run away. So, you are now looking for work, you said. This is why I came to knock at your door But when we met this afternoon, you said you are not able to do anything, didn't you say so? Nobody ever taught me to do any job, in there, besides cleaning and sweeping. Why did you come here to look for work? I was told that you possibly would hire me, moreover, when I read on the arch that your fazenda is called Boa Sorte, I told myself that here my good luck could really start. Then, at least, they taught you to read, in the orphanage. Yes, sir, to read, to write and to do the calculation, this also by means of cane strokes, to make it enter in our heads. I don't think you are able to ride, am I wrong? All I rode in my life were only chairs and fences, sir. The man had a small smile, then asked, And you boy, what would you like to do? To be sincere, sir, I never thought about it. I think I would willingly do anything allowing me to make a living without too many troubles. The cook told me that you never have your slaves missing anything if they work well. So, I would like to get at least what your slaves get, for any work you would ask me to do. Alright, boy. Give me time to talk with my secretary and my superintendent to see if we can find something for you to do. Meanwhile you can eat and sleep here. I will tell Idalina to settle you temporarily in one way or another, until I make a decision. So then, are you going to hire me? I just told you I want to think about it. Now go back to the kitchen and tell Lucas to come here. Are you able to find your way back to the kitchen? I think so, sir. I have just to cross the hall and open the door in the middle, isn't it so? Yes boy. Ah, repeat your name so I can write it down. Manoel Branco, sir. Good Manoel, you can go now. Good afternoon sir and thank you anything you would decide. While the man was writing the boy's name on a paper, he nodded in answer. ----------------------------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 2 ----------------------------- In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is http://andrejkoymasky.com If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com ---------------------------