Date: Sat, 31 Dec 2016 17:11:44 -0500
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: The Flap of a Butterfly's Wings

                  THE FLAP OF A BUTTERFLY'S WING
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     I gulped hard as the field effect blossomed in front of me. If this
were inside a metal ring, it would look a hell of a lot like that
"Stargate" series of movies and shows, only the fluid stuff wasn't silver,
it was an ugly, unfriendly reddish color. Like the flames of Hell, I
thought and quickly squashed the thought. I took the backpack from Gerald,
and said, as a joke, "Want to come with me, Gerry? We could get you away
from your wife that way."
     "Hey, don't tempt me." he said. "Any more of her and I'm going to turn
gayer than you and your fruity friends." Gerald wasn't a bad sort, but he
was sort of casually offensive in his talk, if you see what I mean. Once
you learned it and overlooked it, he wasn't that hard to get along with.
     "Are you ready, Mr. Tammer?" the voice came over the loudspeaker.
     I nodded. "I am ready."
     "Then proceed in ten seconds. We'll further stabilize the field in
nine, eight, seven...."
     I gulped hard again and started walking toward the red
field-effect. As my body touched the field, it felt like I was being ripped
into five hundred thousand separate particles. Which may have been exactly
what was happening....
     I came to some time later, sat up, looked about. I'd been wearing
combat fatigues including body armor, a backpack holding supplies and....
     I was stark raving naked. I felt my head and marveled I still had my
hair! I was wondering if only living things would pass through the
field. It'd certainly explain what had happened to Rosenfeld.
     I got to my feet and looked out over what, if the instruments were
correct, was the year 1000 B.C. Three thousand years in the past. And if
the measurements were exact (no assurance of that at all, I was lucky I
hadn't landed in the middle of the ocean!), I was standing in what was
supposed to be ancient Greece. Well, if this was Greece, it was awful
damned flat! Gentle mountains, scattered bushes. If I had to guess, this
was more likely Israel, pardon me, Judea.
     Well, speaking Greek would still work here to some extent, plenty of
Greek-speaking Judeans in the cities next to the ocean. I just had to get
to the ocean...now which direction was that? West, of course, but the sun
was close to the zenith, I'd have to wait until it showed me some relative
motion before I could follow it towards its setting. Of course, what I'd
do, naked and helpless, then was a mystery. I only knew one thing...I had
to be careful not to disturb the events of history in any way. There's the
old story about the flapping of a butterfly's wings causing a hurricane in
Brazil, well, the timeline itself was equally vulnerable. The current
theory was that living a quiet life in the past wouldn't affect things, but
I had to be careful about doing anything that would alter events
significantly in the future.
     I found some shade under a large tree or bush (it was one of those
small, scraggly things where the difference leaves a lot to your definition
of which is which) and settled down, stretched out, my bare ass wincing at
the rocks I found the hard way and knocked aside, settled down, biding my
time, watching the clouds...okay, I fell asleep.
     I awoke a short time later (I was still in shade, though it had moved
a good deal) by the unmistakable sounds of the bleating of sheep. Well, you
expect sheep in Judea, after all. Even in Greece, if I happened to have
made it there.
     I got to my feet and looked about, heard the sound of laughter. A lone
voice. I turned to look at a young man who was obviously the shepherd,
standing not far away, and made a hasty effort to cover my genitals with my
hands. I was unsuccessful.
     He unleashed something in a language I didn't understand. I said, in
my best ancient Greek, "I'm sorry, but I only speak Greek."
     He spoke his own words haltingly, but clearly Greek. "I am Dudi." Dudi
was maybe twenty and maybe not quite, for he had no beard and only a light
dusting of white hairs on his face. Me, I had to shave every few days or
I'd look like a Biblical character myself, my thick black hair and hairy
body was the reason they'd chosen me for this mission, I looked Greek
although I was actually English and Irish.
     "Dudi." I said, carefully not conjuring up its unfortunate secondary
meaning in English. "I am Josephus." I gave him my chosen Greek name if I'd
landed in Greece.
     "You were beset by robbers." He said to me. Actually, we did a lot of
pointing and repeating and trying different words here, I'm shortening this
to the conversation we would have had were it not for language
difficulties.
     "Yes, I was." Of course, if I were naked in the wilderness, I must
have been robbed by bandits who stole everything I had. I said that last
part to Dudi then went on, "Can your family help me out until I can get
back to my own people?"
     "I will take you to my father's tent." Dudi agreed. He gave me his
outer garment to let me gird my nakedness and then I had to help him
shepherd the sheep back to his family's tents.
     Dudi's father was well-to-do by Arabian-type standards, the family and
their retainers had some half-dozen tents of various sizes, and I was led
to the largest one to speak with his father. Dudi had to translate. Beyond
learning I was definitely in what would one day be Israel (it hadn't been
born yet), I didn't have much luck. I had to deal with the father, agree to
help Dudi with the flock for a season, in turn, he would give me supplies
and assistance to get to the coast. What I'd do when I got there, I wasn't
sure.
     With Dudi as my only contact among his family, he and I were thrown a
lot into each other's company, above and beyond the duties of the
field. Sheep weren't that hard to manage, you just had to keep an eye on
them that they didn't wander off from their brothers too far (and rescue
them sometimes when they did), and when they'd eaten all the grass and
bushes in one area, move them over to another area. Easy times, and lots of
time to talk. I'd wondered about the boss' son having this job, but
compared to the other things you could do, this was damned easy!
     Until the first storm came along. By bad luck, the field where we were
(all the land was unbroken by fences of any sort, by "field" I mean simply
an area of land a bit more fertile than most) was pretty far from the
current encampment (the family would live in one place until the lands
about were eaten by the sheep, then move on to another place central to the
next fallow lands, and it was time for them to move again), and we were
camping out for two nights. We'd seen the clouds building and were lucky
enough to have a small tent to get into (we usually slept out under the
stars), but unlucky enough that we had to get the sheep into a small group
before we could get inside it. I got soaking wet, and so did Dudi, but
finally the sheep were all together in a neat oval and we could finally
seek our own shelter. Dudi assured me that now they were together, the
lightning and thunder would only make them stay closer rather than scatter.
     "Will the sheep be all right?" I asked Dudi. He smiled and nodded
genially. To my surprise, he began to pull off his clothing, for I'd
learned that his family took a dim view of nudity under any circumstances
up to and including washing your body (which you were supposed to do under
a blanket with a damp sponge and a bowl of water!). "What are you doing?"
     "I am wet." He told me. "I need to get dry, and so do you."
     "But...we have no other clothes to wear."
     "We will hang them before a fire after the rain stops." he told
me. "Now, will you join me or not?"
     Well, he'd seen me naked that time, and figured I was Greek with their
more casual views about nudity and.... "Fine, I will." I agreed and began
to undress.
     I'd never seen more than Dudi's head, neck, hands and (on occasion)
feet since I'd met him some five weeks before. I knew he was young, but now
I was finding out, first-hand, that he was a very succulent bit of
manflesh! He laid himself out on the bedding and made no effort to cover
himself, in fact, he was pretty much displaying it!
     I gulped and said, "I wouldn't like your father to become angry with
me. He could send me away from your camp."
     "My father is busy moving the family to a new location." Dudi told
me. "Come, lie next to me and we'll warm each other's flesh."
     I had expected to end up in Greece, where man-man love was simply one
of the options. I had expected to have to wait until I got there to start
indulging in it. But Dudi was my only friend here. I was apparently stuck
here (they were supposed to keep track of me with a device in my backpack,
so that wasn't going to happen), and feeling more lonely than you can
imagine. And, let's face it, I was horny, living among people that felt
masturbation was a horrible sin! If Dudi wanted to fudge on his laws with
me, I was more than ready to help him do it!
     "I could use some warning up." I agreed and laid my naked and still
wet body next to his. I felt for his prick, and he grabbed mine, and I
found that, hard, he was cut rather short, there was no foreskin to hinder
my hand in any wise. He found my own uncut dong a bit puzzling, I think,
but his hand got busy in no time and we were jerking each other. I dared to
kiss him and he let me, and when I pushed my tongue into his mouth, he was
surprised, but let me, and soon enough, he was sucking on my tongue and
then pushing his into mine for me to suckle. I began to kiss at his neck,
his youthful, smooth, supple neck, and he crooned, for I was teaching Dudi
things he'd never even thought about doing. He probably had planned merely
a jerking of each other, but now I was going to show him everything.
     So I kissed my way down his throat and onto his chest, fondling his
nipples with my tongue-tip, and he groaned and his cock was rock-hard by
the time I worked my way past his breasts to his stomach and then down to
his temple of manhood, he was throbbingly hard, and his pulsating pud was
leaking precome like an overripe fig (I'd been in Judea a while, you have
to remember).
     "Ah, ah, Josephus, my dearest Greek lover." He sighed to me, and I
blinked before I remembered that was me! "I have never felt this, nor
imagined it in my wildest fantasies."
     "I figured that." I grinned up at him. "Now brace yourself for more of
the same."
     "I am ready." he gasped and waited, shuddering.
     My lips closed upon his dong and he gasped again in surprise! "You are
doing this? Isn't it forbidden?"
     "For your people maybe." I agreed, lifting off of him to say the
words. "For my own people, though, it is the greatest of compliments."
     I sank onto him again and he moaned and I sank onto his cock to the
base, gripped it and rose up again. The lack of his foreskin wasn't as big
an obstacle as I thought it would be, I added enough saliva to make it
smooth and easy on him and soon I was bobbing back and forth with some
vigor.
     He groaned and moved around and I let him, and was gratified to find
him taking my own pud into his mouth. He seemed to have realized what I was
doing, for his mouth slewed spit onto my dong and then he began to slide
his lips up and down in the same manner as me. Clever Dudi!
     "Oh, oh, oh!" he gasped far too soon, and I found my mouth filling to
the brim with a thick load of hot man-jizz and serene in the knowledge that
not only was AIDS not yet around to harm us, neither had syphilis traveled
here from the Americas!
     I gulped down what felt like a cupful of Dudi's spunk, then laid back
and let him ply his mouth on me unencumbered. Dudi did his best, but let's
face it, it takes time to learn how to suck a man's cock, man or woman, and
how to keep up a steady pace for more than a few minutes is not something
even a very clever man can handle immediately.
     Dudi gave up and said, "I am sorry, Josephus, I cannot give you what
you gave me."
     "That is all right."
     "Shall I use my hand to complete you?"
     "You can." I hesitated, then plowed on. This may be the only time we
did it, after all. "Or I could teach you the other way men can make love."
     "I would like that very much." Dudi agreed.
     To my surprise, he already knew about anal sex, I guess from dirty
pictures someone had drawn or tales from his older brothers. I knew that
their rare visits to cities would usually involve the men of his family
visiting the brothels or temples (I was still confused on that point and
didn't dare ask questions), and he happily displayed his pert young
buttocks for me to work on. I couldn't bring myself to lick it (toilet
paper was unknown in his culture, you have to understand, you squatted and
hoped nothing stuck to your ass hairs), but I lubed up my finger with my
spit and dug it into him and soon, he was ready for me to try with my
cock. He grimaced and grunted with pain as I pushed it into him, but every
time I hesitated, he urged me to continue. His fingertips were gripping my
back painfully, the nails digging into me when I said, "Okay, it's all the
way inside you."
     "Then make love to me." Dudi urged me. "Make love as you do in
Greece."
     "I'll do what I can." I promised. And I began to slowly push in and
out of his butt.
     Dudi clung to me and moaned alarmingly, only the heavy rain outside
kept us from scaring the sheep with the noises we were making. I felt my
climax slowly growing inside me as I hammered at his tender young ass, and
when it began to blossom, I gasped out, "Oh, oh, Dudi, I am about to come!"
     "What?" he asked for I had spoken in English in my passion.
     I tried to form the words in Greek and/or Hebrew (our conversation was
about 80/20 at this time, a few Hebrew words in Greek sentences), but my
lust-sodden brain couldn't handle it. I could only speak the language of
ecstasy, loud groans that would warn him of my orgasm.
     "Ah-ah-ah, gah-ah-ah, uh-uh, GAH-AH-AH-AH, AH, AH, AH, AH-UHHHH!" I
crowned my desire with my burst, ejaculating into Dudi's ass and as I did
so, Dudi's eyes grew wide and he joined me with a second climax of his own.
     We ended up panting and gasping heavily, serene in our tent in the
heavy rain and musky from our exertions, we went from being exhausted
lovers to sleeping lovers.
     I began to think in terms of living the rest of my life with Dudi and
his family. I had to work for his father for two years to earn his aid in
traveling to Greece. I wondered if Dudi would go with me when the time
came, a younger son's fortunes weren't that optimistic in such tribes, he
would work the rest of his life for his older brothers, and then for his
nephews, until he was too old wherein he would be a pensionary of sorts,
living on the scraps of the elder's tables.
     And then, a day some months later, when we were in his family's camp,
I heard a noise that was awfully familiar. Went outside the tent I shared
with Dudi (and several others, we could manage only occasional nocturnal
joinings in the fields) and there in front of me was the red field-effect.
     Dudi was beside me. "It is the hand of God!" He gasped out in and fell
to his face in fear. Others about had done likewise.
     "No, it isn't." I said, sighing. "It has come for me. Dudi, I wish I
could explain, but I can't. Just remember that, whatever happens next, I
was your friend." I didn't dare dawdle as I said this, but was walking
toward the field. I had to be ready the moment it stabilized to walk
through.
     "Josephus, Josephus wait! I love you! I love you!" Dudi cried out.
     "Farewell, Dudi! I love you, too!" I would have said more, but the
field stabilized and I stepped through and was torn into five hundred
thousand separate particles.
     I awoke some time later, naked again, on the floor of the
Institute. "Found you!" came Gerald's familiar voice. "You got lost on us
for a while there!"
     "I got lost! You dumped me in Israel instead of Greece buck-naked!" I
griped. "I don't think you got the year right, either!"
     "Any luck with Rosenfeld?" Gerald asked.
     "No, I never had a chance to even look for him." I shook my head. "He
must have been lost in the past like I was. Maybe he's on the bottom of the
Mediterranean."
     "Maybe." Gerald said. "Let's get some clothes on you."
     "Afraid you can't keep your hands off me?" I teased him.
     "God knows my husband is jealous enough." Gerald answered.
     It took me a while to pick that up. "Your husband?"
     "Yeah, what's wrong?"
     "Gerald...what's your husband's name?"
     "Joseph, you know his name. It's Duncan."
     "Duncan." I reeled. I got the news in the debriefing, that flap of the
butterfly's wings had done its damage. Somehow, in my absence, the world
had gone from straight to gay as the norm. Gerald even made some bigoted
jokes about the "breeders" with me and expected me to laugh at them. Same
old Gerald...in a radically different world.
     Being gay myself, it wasn't the worst thing to have happened, I guess,
from a personal perspective. It's nice being the majority after a lifetime
of minority status. But I still wonder....
     I don't know what happened after Dudi and his family saw me vanish in
a field of red like I did. To them it must have appeared like...a burning
bush?
     Dear God, I just realized two things! Rosenfeld's first name was
Moses! And Dudi is a sort of nickname for David! Was my young shepherd one
day destined to be King of the Jews? Had my predecessor started things with
an attempt at laying down laws to a rather lawless tribe with his Ten
Commandments? Too few facts to be sure. I can't know. I can never know.
     Maybe not. After all, a butterfly's flap of its wings isn't anything
historically significant. But apparently it can change the world.

                             THE END
               Comments, complaints or suggestions?
             E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM