Date: Sun, 08 Oct 2000 21:12:37 -0700
From: Zane Green <ZaneG7@excite.com>
Subject: From Bell Rock

This story is for a mature audience that likes these type of stories. All
of the characters are fictional, and not meant to represent a real
person.

 FROM BELL ROCK
by Zane Hunter-Green


	The dogs were frantically digging at the cabin door. "Damn those
dogs!" I turned away from my word processor which I was in the midst
of setting up, stumbling over several unpacked boxes to get to the screen
door and see what was agitating them. Moving as cautiously as I could
considering the mess the movers and I had made on the floor, I went to
see what they had gotten into. Foolishly I had tossed the dogs outside to
get them out of the way.

	 I now sensed that they were not alone. Not being a native of
North Central Arizona. and the Sedona area; in my imagination I
envisioned their demise from an animal that transformed itself  from a
mountain lion, to a coyote, then into a bear with the wings of a turkey
vulture. I had allowed the two greyhounds their freedom to explore the
high Sonoran desert lot surrounding my new home, and now I realized,
that I had carelessly had put them in jeopardy.

	I was here trying to escape the bitter after affects of death, not to
lose something else in it's arcane jaws. I thought about ripping the boxes
to quickly find a weapon. As I wondered what I could improvise, the
dogs seemed to have calmed down. They were now barking in a friendly
manor, almost as if- no I quickly put that thought out of my mind. They
never barked in greeting for me, we merely tolerated each other. Perhaps
they were bringing home another dog.

	My real-estate agent had informed me that my closest neighbors, a
mile or so away were a communal group of wiccas. I didn't give it too
much though, a group of witches would add color to the neighborhood,
and wasn't this Sedona, home of magnetic ley lines, artists, mystics, and
others that didn't quite fit into the norms. I had come here to write, not to
socialize.. Taking a deep breathe I looked out at ponderosa pine, and
scrub-grass without seeing the misty bodies of the dogs. I could still hear
them though. Suddenly they were looping towards me,  chased from the
back of the house by a creature, their new friend I figured. I watched
from the doorway as the strange animal came closer I saw that the
creature was running on two legs, then I realized the dogs had discovered
human companionship when  I spied a shock of auburn hair, and a slight
body, adorned by a torn tee-shirt, and cut-off jeans.

	"Hey Mister, are these your dogs?", the child inquired, sensing me
through the screen.

	I came out on the porch to speak. "Yes Miss., they do seem to
like you."

	The expressive child laughed at me, jumped up on the front porch
with a smirk of mischief on the otherwise exquisite face.

	"I'm not a girl," going over to shake my hand like one much older
might do, the child continued; "My name is Tas, short for Tasmania, and
everyone thinks I'm a female because I live with so many women. They
won't let me cut my hair you know. They say it will diminish my power,
kind of like Samson."

	Not knowing how to respond to him I said, "I like your hair, but it
can't be comfortable all tangled up with twigs, why don't you wear it
back in a ponytail? Then it won't get in your way."

	It was the river of hair running down his back that had confused
me as to his gender. It looked like it had never been cut.

	"How do you know?" he questioned.

	"I used to wear my hair like that back in college?"

	"Were you a hippie, or something?"

	"Sort of," I found my self thinking for a moment of those days
back in Berkley when I knew all of the answers. "Believe it or not I just
unpacked some elastics that I use to wrap up extra computer cord. I'll get
you one."

	I went into the cabin and returned with a red and gold band. The
child was sitting on the step waiting for me.

	"Would you make the ponytail for me?" the boy-child got up and
leaned close against me, he then reached out for my hand, his own hand
seemed small and perfect, almost like polished glass, only later did I
realize he lacked fingerprints as he drew his silken hands towards my
groin.

	Was this strange being so innocent or was he unbelievably trying
to make a pass? I felt strongly overpowered by his crisp empowering
scent like creosol after a rain. I had the most irrational though of reaching
over and crushing him against me. I could see the boyhood through the
feminine beauty of this little minx, and I was trying very hard to suppress
feelings that were pushing me out of my dormant state. I quickly needed
some distance to analyze the situation. I was getting too many cross
signals from this little vixen.

	"I'll have to get a hairbrush."

	Fortunately my bedroom was already unpacked and set up so, I
went inside to put some distance between me and the hot intense little
body that was increasingly snuggling closer. As I should have known he
followed me inside.
He sat on the foot of my bed as I hunted for my brush. I found it and
daringly went over, I couldn't seem to help myself. I started to stroke his
hair. That was a mistake! His hair was so incredibly soft and beautiful.
Red sparks of light like rich sherry. I lifted it up and gently started to take
out the greenery caught in the silky locks. I could see his face reflected in
the mirror. Bright blue-green eyes dancing around the room. He stopped
to stare at the picture on my bureau. The solitary photograph that had
been taken a year ago in Spain. It was a sunny portrait of my lover Jim,
and I on the beach. Jim had leukemia and had died five months ago. In the
community everyone thought it was AIDS. It was almost an affront to try
and suggest that a gay man can die of anything, just like everyone else.

	Tas stood up and looked closer at the picture.

	"You know, he's with us now. I can sense him. Is his name Jim?
He liked to be called something else.  He designed computer games,
didn't he? He tells me that he wants me to make you happy, that we
should make love."

	Getting goosebumps, I dropped the hairbrush. "How old are you,
Tas?"

	"Don't worry, I'm legal, I'm over eighteen. He tells me that you
are a worrier."

	Tas didn't look much older than twelve. "Stop trying to cast a
spell on me or whatever you think you're doing. You shouldn't lie about
your age. You act like a twelve year old, and you look about ten!"

	"You think so, because you really don't know me. How long were
you and Jim lovers?"

	"I'm hardly going to discuss that with a child." He was provoking
me to my limit.

	"Jim tells me that it was nine years, and you were faithful too, we
would be good for each other."

	I caught my breathe. "You my friend as irresistible as you might
be would be jail bait for me."

	"I told you that I'm older than I look. I'm sick of being
patronized. Why are we wasting time talking?"

	I couldn't believe him! I was being seduced by a feral child. He
turned around to me and started to rub his fingers against my awaking
groin. His small strong fingers pressed hard against the fabric of my pants.
This was quickly getting too intense. I backed away, very aroused but
afraid where we were quickly headed. I stupidly said, "I truly need to see
your drivers license or something."

	"Where the hell would I put my license. besides I don't need an
ID to prove my age to you, just look!"

	At that he spun around and unhitched his cut offs. When He
turned again once more I was looking at a beautiful diminutive uncut
penis. It sat as lonely as I had felt for the last months from it's lack of
companion balls. The young man was a eunuch. I could feel myself
quickly rising to salute him, and his phenomenal beauty. What he lacked
in front he more than made up for behind as I soon was to learn.

	As I pulled him down into my bed falling headfirst into his
mystery I touched his lone silken genitalia.

	"Why do you look so childlike, is it because you were gelded?"
 He took my hand and placed it beneath his penis where I could
feel the faint ridge of a scar.
	"Well, are you going to tell me," I shouldn't be asking him this. I
should just take the gifts he was offering.

	He was wiser than me. "Maybe when I get to know you better.
You won't believe me if I tell you now. Besides, I can think of other
things to be doing."

	With that he stopped using his mouth for talking, and found out
how delightful it could be used in other ways. I would be some time
longer before I would hear his strange story. Tas was obviously not a
stranger to sex. He had taken the lead, before I could think my own jeans,
and briefs were on the floor. He leaned down  nudging his head against
my cock and balls. I felt a soft shudder as he licked them gently. My mind
was in a turmoil. I had been celibate for many months now, and hadn't
had sex with a stranger since I was a teenager.
	His sex drive was on the fast track he was racing on. I knew that
he could have almost anyone, he was breathless. I wondered why he had
selected me. The dogs entered the room and sat on the floor as if they
were protecting him from me.
	Traders! When this boy was around they ignored me. Perhaps
they missed Jim, they actually had been his dogs. I wondered how far the
boy wanted us to go. It was obvious that he had taken the lead since I
first spotted him like a generous gift of the woods. I didn't know much
about him.
	His amazing hair, still untamed spilled across my bed. I so wanted
to fuck the daylights out of him, but I was afraid to break him, and tarnish
him.
	"Come on Daniel, I want you to love me."
	I never told him my name. In wonder I reached down and started
to stroke his childlike thighs, they were warm and felt like satin. Before I
could stop myself I had his excited penis in my hand. It felt curious not to
bump against balls. He licked my fingers as I brought my mouth down to
taste the part of him left uncut. His glans peeked through his foreskin, so
aroused was he. I was going crazy, and he knew it.
	"Do you have any Vaseline", he asked.

	I knew where that was going, and I reluctantly shook my head.

	"Never mind, I have my own."

	He didn't carry a wallet yet he had lubricant. He took my hand.
	"We should finish outside."

	"Outside?"

	"Unless you don't mind staining your bed, it will wash out
though."

	I looked at the vial he handed me, and was taken aback. It looked
just like glistening blood.

	"Tas, you want me to use this in your ass! What is it?"

	"It's great stuff. I mix cow udder cream with the red pigment
from bell rock. This is red rock country. I gather the sandstone and grind
it into a paste. Men get really turned on when they remove their cock and
it looks like a bloody mess."

	"You're 100 per cent crazy!"

	He took his index finger, and swiped his concoction and painted it
across his cheeks marring his angelic face with the paint, then he turned
to me calling it love paint and did the same. It felt creamy, yet there was
definitely something else in there that he wasn't telling me about. I could
smell a scent I couldn't identify. The closest it came to was rain, and
orange and honey suckle.

	He planned to coat this stuff on my prick. I hoped it wasn't going
to cause it to balloon out, or drop off or something. With this boy
anything seemed possible.
	If he wasn't so damn sexy flashing an ass as beautiful as I've ever
seen, in my face, I would have stopped before we went further, and  put
on the breaks, although in my engorged state I was beyond thinking about
anything else aside that perfect ass. I was so hard I could hardly stand it!

	I gripped his small vial and smeared it on my cock, so much for
caution. He laughed as I positioned him on his back, to elevate his
indescribable butt upwards, spreading the crack open so I could savor his
bud. I thought I'd find a welcome hole, but it was tight and puckered.

	I grabbed more of his red lubricant to push it in with my fingers
preparing his rectum for my visit. Oddly it was very hard to slip my finger
in, almost unyielding.

	"Tas, are you sure you've done this before?"

	"Oh yes, of course, I've had many lovers."

	"Finally I was able to get two fingers past his splinter muscle. He
was crying.

	"Tas, I'm hurting you. If you didn't tell me otherwise I would
swear that you are a virgin."

	"No, it's just been awhile, please keep going."

	"I had a hard time getting the two fingers into his anus, then three.
He wasn't having any fun. His anus was so tight, and velvety.

	"Come on Daniel, fuck me please."

	I carefully positioned my cock level to his delicious hole. It took a
lot of pressure to get the head partway in. He was shaking and in pain.

	"Tas, I can't hurt you like this." Deep down I knew that he was
offering me his cherry.

	"Please Daniel, just do it I'll be fine, just do it.

	"Look, if this is your first time we're moving slower. I refuse to
injure you."

	"You won't do it, will you. No one wants a damn faggot eunuch."
He looked pitiful.

	"Honey, you're beautiful! How can anyone resist you?"

	"Oh, believe me, they do. No one wants me." He started to get
up. He looked at me as if I had rejected him. With tears in his eyes he
backed away.

	I had never scorned a woman, but I felt like this might be as close
as I could come, looking at his tear streaked delicate face. The long
strands of glowing hair plastered to his face where he had streaked the
red paint. It broke my heart.

	I went over to the picture of Jim, picked it up and said "Ok Jim,
you talk to him, please tell him that I'm sorry."

	Tas started to laugh. I went over, lifted him up, and carried him
back to my bed. We started over. It was sublime! I finally fell asleep in
the early morning. The dogs looked at me mournfully. The boy was gone.

	I tore on some clothes, and ran down the road to the place where
I was told the witches lived. I had to catch my breathe. In front of me was
a large complex that was under construction. "What's this!" I must have
sworn out loud.

A workman came over to me. "Have you seen a boy that lives here?" I
managed to ask him.

	"No, these units won't be occupied for at least six months, it's not
safe for kids to play around here. We're putting up the Witch Creek
Condominiums. Sedona as you know is growing like crazy."

	I backed away, and then looked down. There was the blue and
yellow sun hat that Jim had worn in Spain to cover his head, bald from
the chemotherapy. It could only have been his as it had a set of Olympic
Runners collector's pins stuck in the brim, the same that Jim had bartered
for through our years together.  Jim had been an amateur runner who had
run out of time.. .. The hat had been stolen by the winds, and washed
away in the ocean the afternoon after the picture was taken. Like a dense
wave that had spread despair on our last holiday together. Only Jim knew
about my obsession with eunuchs and angels.  Somehow he found one to
herald his message to me.

	"Oh Jim!" I yelled out. The workman must have thought that I
was crazy.
	After we returned from Spain we had a disagreement. The fact
was I couldn't accept that he was dying.  Jim had moved out and returned
to his family in Ohio, his father was a doctor and had finally convinced
him to leave me on the grounds that he would find him a donor through
his connections at his hospital. When I tried to contact him at his parents
there was always an excuse, he wasn't home or he was sleeping, he never
called me back, later when I learned how sick he was I felt worse. I
should have gotten on that plane myself and dealt with his family. Deep
down I had hoped that he would recover and come back to California. I
had his dogs, I knew he would want them, his two loyal running
companions.

	 It came as a shock when I was informed about his death  several
weeks after the fact, and then it was from an acquaintance. I closed the
apartment, my memories and heart... 	I only stayed in Sedona a few more
months. I was offered an incredible sum for my land and returned to the
Bay Area. I never saw Tas again but he had restored my spirit, and
renewed my faith that I would see Jim again, until then I had my own race
to run as well as I could.

                     THE END