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 A World of My Choosing   An Out-of-this-World Story by Gil Gamesh   Chapter
Twelve   As the thirty-day anniversary of Iain's arrival neared, I became
even more apprehensive and nervous and depressed, especially depressed, and
internally I bordered on despair, a loss of hope that Anna would join me.
If Aimee was right, I knew someone else would soon arrive.  If it wasn't
Anna, I didn't know if I could maintain the facade of being content,
especially since Iain still wouldn't tell me the answers to the questions I
had asked him.  I had a series of bad nights when my mind wouldn't shut
down and let me sleep and I struggled through the following days.  I tried
to stay busy during the days but often I found myself doing tasks without
thinking about what I was doing, while my mind was whirling in circles
puzzling with the same old questions.

   After our evening meal on the thirty-first day, I asked Iain the same
questions again.  He said "I can't, David," then walked away from me, went
in Aimee's room, and began to talk to her.  I could hardly control my
anger. I went outside, climbed up to the highest level of the terraces, and
sat there thinking.  I had begged Iain to share his knowledge with me and
he had consistently refused.  I decided to give him one last chance.

   I waited outside, thinking about what I intended to do, until the time
Iain and I usually went to bed.  Then I stood up, pissed to the night and
fuck-it-all, and went back inside.  I walked slowly down the hallway almost
to our shared bedroom, stroking my penis and thinking how Iain might react.
Would he fight me?  That wouldn't do him much good.  He didn't have a
chance against my strength.  Would he simply let me?  I didn't want that.
Would he cooperate with me?  I thought of that for a minute and then
decided that wasn't what I wanted.  I wanted him to resist.

   I quietly walked into our bedroom, over to his bed, and called for the
lights to come on bright.  Iain wasn't asleep.  He was lying there on his
back stroking his erect penis.  He looked at my face and then down at my
penis, standing up tall.  He smiled at me, and moved over without my
asking.

   I sat down on the side of his bed and then quickly rolled over until I
was on top of him.  I was chest to chest with him and dick and balls to
dick and balls with him.  I could feel his erect penis against my stomach
and I knew he could feel mine.  I pressed it against his stomach until he
squirmed.  My face was just inches above his.  My eyes were locked with
his.

   As a start, I wanted to kiss him like I would kiss a woman.  I lowered
my head and gently kissed him, just lips to lips, with no pressure or
force. He looked up at me with confusion on his face.

   "I'm going to kiss you, Iain," I said.  "I want you to kiss me back.  Do
it like a man or do it like a woman but just do it."

   I saw his lips tighten and his forehead furrow.  I knew he was going to
resist me and that was exactly what I wanted.  I lowered my face toward his
and he turned his face to one side.  I wrapped my hand around his wrist and
squeezed just a little.

   "Stop, David.  You're hurting me," he said, his face still turned away
from mine.

   "No, I'm not but I will if you don't kiss me."

   I increased the pressure a little more and saw his face register pain. I
eased my grip.  He turned his head to face me, licked his lips a couple of
times, and smiled weakly at me.

   I slowly lowered my face down to his, my lips to his, and probed between
his lips with my tongue.  He opened to me and yielded his mouth to me for a
moment.  His breath was sweet and fresh and I knew he had brushed his teeth
before he went to bed.  I pulled back and smiled down at him.  He had done
what I wanted.

   "What are you doing, David?" he said.  "Get off me."

   "No, Iain," I answered.  "I'm going to do something I've wanted to do
since you came here.  I'm going to fuck your sweet little ass."

   His eyes opened wide and his face registered shock and surprise and then
fear.

   "What do you mean, David?  Get off me, please!"

   "No, Iain, you've been fucking with me for the last month.  Now I'm
going to fuck with you."

   "Please, David, don't...don't do this."

   "I'm going to give you a choice, Iain.  You can suck me off or you can
take it up the ass.  If you suck me off, I'm going to shove my dick down
your throat so far you won't even have to swallow my semen.  If you want me
to fuck you, I'm going to shove my dick up your ass so far you won't be
able to shit my semen out.  Which do you want?"

   I kept my eyes on his face and I saw terror in his eyes as he came to
believe I would do what I was saying.  That was what I wanted.

   "I'd rather fuck you," I continued relentlessly.  "I've wanted to shove
my dick between your little white buns since you came here.  If you
cooperate, I'll try not to hurt you.  If you fight me, my dick is still
going up your ass and it will probably hurt you.  It's up to you."

   He lay there, staring at me, and I thought he was trying to make up his
mind.  Suddenly, he slapped me on the side of my head with an open palm,
right on my ear.  Where had he learned that little defensive trick?  To do
it properly, he should have used both hands.  It hurt like hell but I
didn't move off him.  Instead, I caught both his wrists with my hands, bent
his arms upward beside his head, and pinned them down with my hands.

   "Good move, Iain," I hissed, "but I've had better men than you try to
hurt me.  You should have used two hands."

   He stared at me for a moment and then erupted in a sustained attempt to
throw me off him.  His legs flailed against the bed but they couldn't make
me move off him.  He tried bucking upward but I kept my stomach against his
and that didn't work.  All it did was rub my hard-on against his belly and
his against mine.  After another moment, he realized he couldn't throw me
off him and he subsided and lay there glaring at me.

   I was angry and depressed.  I was fed up with him.  I was tired of
asking him questions and getting no answers.  I had tried not to let it
show but all of it had been simmering inside me and I had tried not to let
it out.  Now it had come to a rolling boil and I knew it was about to
explode.  I decided to try again.

   "Iain, I'm warning you.  I've reached the end of...of whatever, my
patience.  I'm tired of asking you questions and getting no answers.  I'm
going to ask you one question.  If you don't give me a straight answer,
I'll make you wish you had.  If you don't answer me, you're going to get
fucked and I'm going to rip your little asshole to shreds.  Now, why am I
here?"

   "David, I can't tell you what I don't know.  Please don't...

   I cut him off.  "Don't give me that shit, Iain.  I know you know more
than you've been telling me, a hell of a lot more.  I'm tired of asking, I
mean begging you to tell me why I'm here.  What's the purpose of all this?
Somebody's gone to a lot of trouble and expense to provide this place for
us.  Why?  What's happened to Anna?  You pretend you've never heard of her
but I watch you when I talk about her and I know you know who she is.  You
know one hell of a lot of shit and you won't tell me a fucking thing.  I've
reached the stage where I don't give a flying fuck why I'm here.  I don't
want to stay here with you, even if this place is a fucking paradise.  I
can hardly stand to look at you.  I just want to go home and look for Anna.
If I can't have her, I don't want to live, here or anywhere.  I might as
well give you Little Boy and tell you to cut my throat.  Would you like to
do that?"

   "David, please don't be so angry with me," he begged.  "Please don't
fuck me.  I've never been with a man.  Just with Caitlyn."

   Caitlyn, huh?  She who never complained was named Caitlyn, not Kate.  I
lay there on top of him looking at him for a moment, still trying to
control the anger and depression and other emotions that threatened to
overpower me.  He lay there with his lips tightly closed, glaring at me.  I
decided to give him one last chance.

   "You don't want to suck my dick?  Shit, I'll suck yours.  It's not a big
deal.  I've sucked a few dicks before and it didn't make me queer."

   I turned loose of his arms and crawfished backwards until I was sitting
on his legs just below his knees.  Maybe he was frightened of me and what I
was threatening to do but his dick was still hard and standing up over his
stomach.  He raised himself up on his elbows and watched me.

   I put my hand around his dick, stretched his foreskin downward, leaned
over, and took the head in my mouth.  I knew I was in a vulnerable position
and, if he hit me on my ears with both hands, he might be able to inflict
enough pain to get away.  He didn't hit me.  Instead, he let me use my
tongue and lips and mouth and hand on his penis.  I sucked and stroked him
for a minute and then decided it was his turn.

   I moved up on the bed, straddling his chest, until my dick was in front
of his face.  "It's your turn,"

   He reached up and gingerly put his thumb and a couple of fingers on the
shaft of my dick.  My foreskin was already retracted and the head of my
dick was blood-red.  I wanted him to suck it.  He craned his neck upward,
opened his mouth wide, and leaned forward until the head of my dick was in
his mouth.  He closed his eyes and stopped and I waited to see what he
would do.  I saw a little furtive tear well up in one eye.  I waited but he
did nothing.  He didn't suck it.  He didn't use his hand.  He didn't use
his tongue and lips.  I'd had enough.

   I moved back down on his body, caught his legs behind his knees with my
arms, and bent him almost in half.  I pressed down on him with my stomach
and chest and caught his flailing arms at the wrists and pinned them down
too.  He was helpless, just the way I wanted him.  I moved back a little
until I felt my dick slip down below his testicles and then I pushed
forward again, trying blindly to ram my dick up his ass.  I missed and my
dick slid upward, bumped into his balls, and came to rest against my
stomach.  He screamed and I didn't know why because the only thing I had
hurt was my dick.  I was about to try again when I heard Aimee call my
name.

   "DAVID!"

   I had forgotten about her and how she could monitor what went on in our
bedroom.  I had thought about asking her not to watch what happened after
Iain and I had masturbated together but I had decided that she might as
well see everything.  Now I wished I had asked her to stay out of our
bedroom.

   "David, please do not hurt Iain!" she said, pleading.  "Think about what
you are doing!"

   I released his arms and legs but I didn't move off him.  I rose up on my
elbows and looked at his face.  His eyes were full of tears and his face on
each side was wet with them.  I knew I had to stop.

   "I'm sorry, Iain," I said.  "I'm all fucked up!  I'm just really fucked
up!  Why can't you help me?  I'm depressed and crazy and hurting and I need
help and you're the only one who can help me and you won't do it.  I
don't....I don't know...Oh, shit!  What am I going to do?"

   I rolled off him and out of the bed, ran out the door, down the hallway,
and out the front doors.  I stopped in the center of the terrace, my eyes
closed, breathing deeply, trying to calm down.

   What I had tried to do to Iain was plainly and simply evil and I knew
it. I had killed men who were trying their best to kill me and I slept well
afterwards.  But Iain was innocent of any malice toward me.  Maybe he had
not been deliberately hiding anything from me after all.  Maybe he really
didn't know anything.  Or maybe there had been some sort of trauma in his
life like there had been in mine and maybe he couldn't talk about it.  I
knew that what I had tried to do to him was wrong.  Maybe it was the most
evil act I had ever attempted.  He was just a boy becoming a man and trying
hard to cope with me and being here.  I liked him and respected him.  But
still, what I almost did was evil and I felt sick inside from wanting to do
it.

   I looked up at the sky for help.  The moon was nowhere to be seen and
the terrace area outside was faintly lit by millions of diamonds in the
sky. I knew my way around even in the dark and I went to one of my favorite
places to sit, a rock on the highest terrace from which there was an
unobstructed view.  I sat down and looked at the sea, silver and cold with
starlight, impersonal and uncaring, and tried to let go of what I had done.
I sat there thinking all kinds of crazy thoughts, wanting to do things to
hurt somebody, tired of being hurt because some idiots thought they could
just grab me somehow and transport me somewhere and I didn't have a fucking
idea how I had got here, where ever here was and I might never be with Anna
again.  I had tried to do something evil to someone, a boy, who needed a
good man to help him grow up.  Not me.  He didn't need me, certainly not
me.

   After a while I gave up thinking and went back inside.  I went to our
sleeping chamber but Iain wasn't there.  I had not seen him in any other
room as I came down the hallway so I knew he was probably in another
bedroom.  I left the bedroom where we had been sleeping and walked down the
hallway, checking on each bedroom.  I finally found him in one across the
hallway and as far away from me as he could get.  He was lying there on his
left side with his back toward me.  I couldn't tell whether he was asleep
or not.  I gave up, went back to my bedroom, mine alone now, crawled in
bed, and lay there unable to sleep.

   <><><> 

   "Wake up, David!  Your help is needed again!"

   I struggled to awaken from a deep sleep, not sure if I had heard some
one calling for me or if I was dreaming.  I opened my eyes and saw that my
sleeping chamber was brightly lit.  I quickly looked at the clock over the
door and saw that it was almost three o'clock in the morning.

   "David, I need you!" Aimee said, urgently, and this time, I knew she was
calling me.  "Some one has arrived and he is very ill!"

   "Call Iain!  Tell him to come to your room!" I instructed her.

   I rolled out of bed and started for Aimee's room.  The urgency of her
voice had made me cool and I ran as quickly as I could to see who had
arrived.  I knew it wasn't the one I wanted so much to see.  Aimee had
clearly referred to the new arrival as a he.

   Iain had arrived thirty-six days ago.  Aimee had said that someone would
arrive every thirty to forty days and I assumed that meant they could
arrive anytime during the day or night.  I knew I couldn't stay awake every
night so I had asked her to call me if the new arrival came at night.  I
had slept fitfully for six nights waiting and wishing that Anna would be
next.  Iain had hardly spoken to me for five days since I attempted to rape
him.  He avoided me and didn't help me with any of the usual chores.  Each
day I threw myself into the hardest manual labor I could find so I would be
exhausted and might sleep.

   The new arrival was a young boy.  He was on the floor on his hands and
knees.  He had thrown up the contents of his stomach, emptied his bladder,
and evacuated his bowels.  He had shit and pissed on the recliner and the
floor and then puked on the floor.  From the amount and mixed consistency
of his feces, I wondered if he had diarrhea.  He was on his hands and
knees, trying to crawl out of the mess.  It reeked enough to make me recoil
but I knew I had to get him out of it.

   I grabbed him by his arms, stood him up, and then scooped him up in my
arms and took a few steps backwards.  I stood looking at him for just a
moment.  His face and most of his body were clean but his hands and arms
and legs and feet were soiled.

   He was a young boy with a beautiful face, long light-brown fine hair, a
slim body with no trace of baby fat, tanned except for, like Iain, a faint
white stripe around his middle, and long thin arms and legs.  His face was
flushed, cheeks rosy pink, lips almost too red, and his eyes were squinted
closed against the bright light.

   I glanced at his genitals to see if that might reveal his age.  His
uncircumcised penis was that of a child in the early stages of puberty.  It
was engorged but not stiff and it was smaller than an adult's.  I assumed
he'd had a piss-hard moments before, upon arrival, just as Iain and I had.
His testicles were large enough to confirm that he was just beginning to
become a man.  He had a sparse tangle of pubic hair on his lower abdomen
and none anywhere else, not even on his legs.  From my own history in
maturing, I guessed his age at about twelve or thirteen.

   I realized that his body felt much hotter than normal.  Iain and I had
both had a slight fever when we arrived but the boy's temperature seemed
high enough to be dangerous.  I looked up at the monitor at Aimee's image
and saw concern on her face.

   "Did you call Iain?" I asked.

   "Yes, she did, David," he answered behind me.  "What can I do to help?"

   I looked down at the boy again and saw that his eyes were rolled back in
his head and his breathing was labored and irregular.  I didn't know with
certainty what to do but I knew I had to take charge and do something.

   "Aimee's going to dispense some medication for his fever and nausea," I
said.  "I want you to help me get the medicine down him.  Stay out of his
mess.  If he's sick from something other than the trip, I don't want you to
catch it."

   I looked up at Aimee.  "Is that what I need to do first?"

   "Yes, David, we need to medicate him first and then you must take him to
the shower to lower his temperature.  The medications will be in a liquid
so try to get him to drink all of it.  I will give him an analgesic that
will lower his temperature and help relieve his pain as well as something
to help with the nausea.  I will also give you a bottle of juice for him to
replenish his bodily fluids so get him to drink as much as possible.  When
you take him to the shower, set the water to cool, not cold, and hold him
under it until I tell you to stop.  I will monitor his vital signs while
you bring his temperature under control.  I do not think he is in danger
but he is a very sick boy."

   "Can you tell me whether he has an illness or he's just sick from the
journey?" I asked Aimee.

   "No, David, I do not have that capability," she answered.  "All I can do
is monitor his vital signs."

   She might be a computer-generated avatar but the real concern on her
face and in her voice again made me believe she was human.

   Iain got the cup of liquid and a bottle of juice while I stood there,
looking down at the young boy.  His mouth was hanging open.  Iain looked at
me helplessly.

   "I'll hold his head up and you hold the cup to his lips," I said. 
"Let's see if he'll drink it."

   The boy eagerly drank the liquid in the cup and then opened his eyes
briefly, maybe looking around for more.  Then he closed his eyes and slowly
went limp again.

   I shook him gently and asked, "What's your name?"

   He struggled to open his eyes and finally was able to squint at me.

   "James," he said.  "Who're you?"

   "My name is David," I answered him.  "Iain is also here.  The image you
see on the screen is Aimee.  We're all friendly and we're going to help
you. We've given you some medication to help you feel better.  Do you want
something else to drink?"

   He nodded weakly.  Iain held the bottle of juice to his lips momentarily
and he swallowed noisily.  When Iain lowered the bottle, he protested.

   "More," he whispered, and I nodded at Iain.

   "James, you have a high fever and we need to get your temperature down.
I'm going to carry you to the shower and hold you there for a while, to
cool you down.  Do you understand?"

   He nodded and then moaned.  "I'm sick."

   Iain offered him more juice and the boy gulped it down.

   "The medication will help you feel better, James.  So will the shower,"
I said.  "After that you'll probably want to sleep for a while.  You'll
feel much better when you wake up.  Iain and I will take care of you. 
Trust us, James.  We'll take care of you."

   As I turned and started for the shower, Iain called out to me.  "David,
do you want me to clean up this mess?"

   I stopped and looked back at the recliner and floor, at the nauseating
mess, and then at Iain.  I was glad he had asked.  I knew he wanted to be
helpful to me.

   "No, I want you to come with me.  Bring a chair with you.  Leave the
mess alone.  I'll clean it up later.  I don't want you in it.  If he's got
something bad, I don't want you to catch it.  I'm going to need your help
with him in the shower."

   I told Iain to start the shower as soon as we entered the bathing
chamber.  I was naked, the way I usually slept, but Iain had on a long
over-sized chemise.

   "Set the water to just barely warm," I said.  "When we get him clean,
we'll turn it down to cool.  You get naked and adjust the temperature so
it's comfortable to you."

   Iain pulled the chemise over his head, turned the temperature lever
while holding one hand under the water, and then stood under the shower for
a moment.  I waited until he nodded.

   "Put the chair under the shower so I can sit down in it," I said.  "I'm
going to try to hold him in my lap while I wash him.  Get some washcloths.
I want one without soap so I can wash his face first.  I don't want to
upset him by getting soap in his eyes.  Put soap on the others."

   I stood under the shower with James in my arms and gently turned him,
trying to let the shower wash most of the mess off him and off me.  Iain
stood holding the washcloths, waiting for me to tell him what to do.  I put
one hand over the boy's eyes and held his head under the shower.  He didn't
resist.  He even opened his mouth and caught some of the water.

   I sat down in the chair, turned so the shower was on just our legs, and
held out my hand to Iain for a washcloth.  I wet it and gently rubbed the
boy's face with it.  Even with his hair wet and stringy, he was a beautiful
child: flawless skin, a boy's little pug nose, red lips that looked
chapped, perfect white teeth, pink cheeks, maybe too pink, and long
eyelashes.

   "That feels good," he whispered.

   "I'm going to wash you all over, James," I said.  "Is that OK?"

   "Yeah," he whispered.  "I'm sorry.  I'm sick.  I pissed and...then I
shit...all over everything and then...I puked too.  I'm sorry."

   I nodded at Iain and he squirted soap on the other washcloth.

   "Don't worry about it, James," I said.  "You'll be feeling fine in a few
hours.  Iain and I will take care of you.  Trust us."

   I washed his arms first, then his hands, making sure I scrubbed them
thoroughly with the soapy washcloth.  I leaned him forward, held him across
his chest, and scrubbed his back as far down as I could.  Then I leaned him
back and washed his chest and stomach.  I hesitated before washing his
genitals but, when I put the washcloth on them, he spread his legs and let
me wash his testicles and penis.  I laid the washcloth on his stomach, took
his soft penis in my hand, retracted his foreskin, and then picked up the
washcloth again.  He seemed to recoil for a moment and muttered something,
maybe "Don't," and then relaxed when I gently washed the head of his penis.

   I tossed the washcloth to one side and looked up at Iain.  He was
watching intently and didn't need to be told what I wanted.  He squirted
soap on the other washcloth and handed it to me.

   I pulled one of James' legs up, propped his foot on my thigh, and gave
his leg and foot a thorough scrubbing.  When I let his leg back down, he
slowly pulled his other leg up.  I was pleased that he was conscious enough
to try to help me.  I gave his other leg a good scrubbing.

   I knew I had one more place to wash and I wasn't sure how to get to it.
I cradled his head against my left shoulder and pulled his hip so that he
was on his side.  I reached behind him, stuck my washcloth-covered fingers
in the crack of his ass, and started rubbing.  James must have thought I
was doing something else.

   "Don't," he protested, squirming.  "Don't fuck me, reverend.  Please
don't fuck me."

   His words were mumbled but they were clear enough.  I wondered who the
reverend was and what he had done to James.

   "Nobody is going to do anything to you, James," I said.  "I promise you.
Nobody is going to hurt you.  I've got to wash your butt too.  That's all
I'm trying to do.  Will you let me?  I'm almost through."

   He hesitated and finally muttered a few words.  "OK.  Just wash me. 
Don't fuck me.  I don't want to be fucked anymore."

   I looked up at Iain and saw the same sort of horror and concern on his
face as I was experiencing.  I reached around behind the boy and very
gently rubbed the washcloth up and down between his ass cheeks.

   I wondered what Iain was thinking and feeling, especially after the way
I had almost fucked him.  Raping him would have been the most evil act one
man could do to another, short of killing him.  I was ashamed of what I had
done with him but I knew I couldn't call it back.  I was again glad that
Aimee had stopped me.

   "Would you turn the water to cool now?" I asked Iain.  "I'll let you
know when it's cool enough.  I'll hold him under it until Aimee tells me to
stop and then we'll let her tell us if he's cooled down enough."

   I held James under the cool shower until I began to shiver and finally
guessed that his temperature might be lower.  I asked Aimee not to warm the
air dryer and then I stood under it with him in my arms for a few minutes.
When I asked Aimee if she could check his vital signs again, she could. 
She confirmed that the shower had lowered his temperature into a safer
area.

   I carried James to my bedchamber, put him in my bed, and made up the
third bed in my room, not the one that Iain had used.  Then I moved him
over to the fresh bed and covered him to his waist with the light blanket.
He turned over on his left side, just like Iain, said "Thanks," and didn't
move again.  I said, "Lights Dim," walked away and almost bumped into Iain
standing just outside the door.

   "Would you watch him, please?" I asked.  "If he throws up or anything
else, call me."

   "Where are you going?" he asked.

   "To clean up the mess."

   "Let me help you."

   "No, you watch him.  I don't know if Aimee can see his face the way he's
laying.  Besides, my immune system's very good.  I don't know about yours."

   In Aimee's room, I talked to her while I cleaned up the mess James had
made.

   "I thank you for caring for James, David, especially for being so gentle
with him," she said.  "You were a good choice for the first one to arrive."

   "Did you hear what he said, Aimee?" I asked.  "Someone he called
reverend has been fucking him."

   "Yes, David, I heard," she answered.

   "He's just a little kid, Aimee," I said.  "We're supposed to take care
of kids, not take advantage of them.  I suppose you don't have any idea why
he came here, do you?"

   "No, David, I have no knowledge of who will arrive."

   "Well, he's going to be safe here with me.  I'll make sure of that."

   "I am sorry I cannot help you, David," she said.  "I wish I could clean
up James' mess.  I also wish I could advise you on how to take care of him.
I do not have capabilities for either."

   "That's OK, Aimee," I said.  "You're always a great deal of help to me.
I don't know whether I can get along without you now."

   "You must protect the room behind the door at the end of the hall,
David. As long as you do, I will be with you."

   "I will and I'm glad you'll be with me, Aimee."

   After cleaning up the mess, I returned to the bathing chamber and
showered thoroughly with a soapy washcloth.  When I returned to my sleeping
chamber a little later, I saw Iain sitting on the side of James' bed near
the foot.  I also saw that he had made up the bed where he had slept before
my stupidity made him move.  I was glad he wanted to move back in with me.

   I stopped just inside the door and motioned for him to come to me.

   "You go back to bed, Iain," I whispered.  "I'll watch him."

   "No, David.  You bathed him and you cleaned up his mess.  Let me help
you.  I'm not sleepy and I can watch him."

   I wasn't sleepy either but I was glad Iain wanted to help.  If only he
would tell me what I wanted to know, I knew he and I could be good friends.
I felt we had been friends until my stupid act and I wanted to be a good
friend to him from now on.  I went to my bed and lay there thinking,
wondering why I had been chosen by someone to be first and why and how I
might have been transported to where ever.  And why Iain?  Why James?  I
could not see any logic or pattern that led to any conclusion.  I was still
baffled.

   <><><>

   James awakened just before noon, hungry, thirsty, and full of questions.
I told him Iain would answer all his questions later.  Iain didn't say
anything; he just smiled and shook his head from side to side.  When I
asked James how he felt, he grinned and asked if anybody got the tag number
of the truck that hit him.

   James asked for milk.  He got juice, took a sip, and decided it would
do. He asked for cereal, got a Nutty Buddy, took a tentative bite, decided
it tasted good, and ate it in about a minute.  I asked him to slow down to
see how his stomach handled food.

   He sat at the kitchen counter while Iain and I prepared our lunch.  I
sautéed some fish in olive oil and sprinkled it with juice.  Iain finely
chopped some potatoes and onions and sautéed them together in olive oil. 
Before Iain woke up, we had agreed to start him off easy with food but to
see if the smell of the fish and potatoes would tempt him.  It did.  He ate
a big piece of fish and some potatoes and looked to see if Iain or I were
leaving any.  I pushed another piece of fish on his plate.  His face really
lit up when I put a big bowl of huge blackberries before the three of us.
He finally gave a couple of deep sighs and seemed content.  The next words
he spoke were the first of about ten thousand questions.

   "Why are we all naked?" he asked.  "Can I have my clothes?"

   I smiled and pointed at Iain.  He explained that we stayed naked when we
were indoors and only wore clothes outdoors when we needed them.  He
explained that our supply of clothing was limited and we had no way of
getting any more.

   "Why can't we just go to the mall like everybody else?" James asked.

   I looked at Iain and waited, trying to control my laughter.  I suppose
his answer to that question and the ones that followed was good enough.  I
wanted Iain to be subjected to James' barrage of questions.  I wanted him
to understand how I had felt when he arrived and I believed that he knew
more than he was willing to tell me.

   I asked Iain to give James a tour of the facilities inside while I
talked to Aimee but to let me join them when they went outside.  I wanted
to see the expression on James' face when he saw where we were.  When they
came back, James wanted to thank me.

   "David, Iain says I should thank you for taking care of me last night
and for cleaning up my mess.  I guess I would have thanked you myself if I
could just remember what happened.  My mind's all messed up and it's like
I'm dreaming.  Am I?"

   "No, James," I said.  "You're not dreaming.  You'll be back to normal in
a day or so.  You've just had a long journey and the way you feel is the
same way Iain and I felt when we came here.  Are you ready to see your new
world?"

   James' mouth dropped open when he saw the world outside.  I let Iain
lead him around the different levels of the terrace.  I enjoyed watching
the expression on his face when Iain showed him our view of the sea that
surrounded us.  I only had to answer one question.  James wanted to know
why I had all the rabbit skins drying in racks.  I had learned to make
bamboo squares and to lace rabbit skins in the racks to cure.  When I asked
him if he would like to have winter moccasins with rabbit fur inside, he
looked at me like I was kidding.

   We wandered around outside most of the afternoon.  I wanted James to see
our garden - ours now since Iain usually helped me - and to pick any
vegetables which were ready.  We got lettuce, radishes, and snow peas from
the garden and then went to the potato patch to dig a few more potatoes. 
From the wilted state of the potato vines, I knew that we needed to dig up
the rest.

   I left James under Aimee's and Iain's care while I prepared our evening
meal, rabbit with vegetables.  I hoped James didn't ask for dessert since
we ate all the blackberries on hand for lunch.  I made a mental note to go
pick blackberries the first thing in the morning.

   After we ate the three of us sat and talked together and with Aimee for
a while.  I watched James while he was talking to her.  He was plainly
captivated by her and I couldn't blame him.  She was dressed in a simple
white something that left her shoulders bare and revealed just the tops of
her young breasts.  Her hair was pulled back in a pony-tail this time.  She
looked about sixteen years old, a virginal captivating girl.  I decided to
ask Aimee to give James something to look at.

   "Aimee, would you mind showing James your breasts?" I asked.

   "No, David, I do not mind," she answered.  "Iain says my breasts are the
second most beautiful he has ever seen.  He says that Caitlyn's are the
most beautiful.  Would you like to see mine, James?"

   That gave me two interesting facts.  Iain has been talking to Aimee
about Caitlyn and he is intimately acquainted with Aimee's and Caitlyn's
breasts.  I wondered if Caitlyn's were like Aimee's.  I decided not to
tease him about it.  I wouldn't want anyone teasing me about Anna's.

   James turned and looked at me, as if asking my permission.

   "Aimee doesn't mind being nude around us, James," I said.  "If you would
like to see her breasts, just ask her."

   "Aimee, please, may I see your breasts?" he whispered, almost inaudibly.

   He knew to say please.  He also knew to ask permission with the word
may, not can, both attributes of an intelligent well-mannered young boy.

   With one finger, Aimee nudged one strap over her shoulder, then the
other, shrugged, and her shift or whatever fell out of sight.  I saw that
Aimee's breasts were just as youthful and beautiful as I remembered them.
They were small, a perfectly-shaped pair, with no discernable droop.  The
areolas were light brown and her darker nipples barely protruded.  I turned
to look at James.

   His mouth and his eyes were both wide open.  He didn't say a word, just
looked.  I watched him and saw that his penis was slowly becoming erect. 
He couldn't take his eyes off Aimee's breasts and seemed unaware of what
was happening to him.

   "Thank you, James," Aimee said, smiling.

   "Huh," was all James could say.

   "David says all males get erections from looking at a young woman in the
nude," Aimee said.  "He says it is a man's way of paying a compliment to a
beautiful woman."

   James immediately covered his genitals with his hand.  He looked at me,
then down at my genitals.  My penis wasn't yet hard but it was well on its
way.  He turned and looked at Iain.  His penis was about like mine.

   "James, there's no reason for you to hide your penis," I said.  "What's
happening to you is perfectly normal.  I might worry about you if you
didn't get a hard-on."

   "David and I jack-off most nights before we go to sleep," Iain said. 
"Would you like to join us?  You'll probably sleep better with a good wank
and a hot shower."

   "What's a wank?" James asked.

   "It's what guys where I come from call masturbating, you know, jacking
off."

   I was glad that Iain seemed willing to sleep in the chamber with me.  I
was even gladder that he felt, as I did, that masturbation was something
all young males did and there was no reason to be ashamed of it.  I hoped
we could teach James to be the same way.

   "Well, let's go do the deed," I said.  "As usual I'm horny.  Let's say
good night to Aimee unless she wants to watch us jack off."

   Aimee wanted to watch us.  "I would like to watch, David, but I must
have the permission of Iain and James first.  I like to learn about what
men and boys do."

   "Well, it's OK with me," Iain said.

   "Shit, me too," James said.  "I never thought a woman would want to
watch me do it but I don't care."

   Iain walked slowly toward the door and then broke into a run.  I was
right on his heels.  James didn't need to be told to follow.  He ran too
and then bumped into me when I stopped in our bed chamber.  We all three
crawled in my bed alcove and propped up at the same end, with me in the
middle of the bed and Iain and James on each side of me.

   We sat there for a minute grinning at each other.  I started slowly
stroking my penis and it swelled to a full erection in almost no time.  I
pushed my testicles downward to make it stand up so I could show off.  Iain
started wanking and then, when his dick was fully hard, stretched the skin
down to make it stand up proud and to show off too.  James bashfully
followed our example and pulled his testicles down to make his dick show to
best advantage.  It was already a good-size one, not fully-grown looking
but enough to satisfy a woman.  He looked at mine, then at Iain's, and then
grinned.  I started slowly stroking my penis while James watched.  Iain
followed my example.

   "James, I want you to think about what I say.  Iain and I are setting an
example for you and it's OK for you to follow it.  Masturbating isn't a
sin. It's not anything to be ashamed of.  It's perfectly normal in young
males.  Our testicles make about a hundred zillion sperm every day and pump
out about a gallon of testosterone.  Maybe I'm exaggerating a little but it
feels like that's what they produce.  And it's all just the way we are! 
We're males, normal young men, horny all the time and we've got to do
something or go crazy.  So we masturbate..., jack off..., wank..., abuse my
best buddy...

   Iain and I both looked at James and waited.

   He giggled, said, "Beat my meat," and showed us how he did it.

   "Choke my cobra," I added and wrapped my hand around the shaft of my
penis and squeezed until the head turned redder.  Iain screwed up his face
as though he'd never heard that one.  James laughed out loud.

   "Belabor the one-eyed bishop," Iain said and I screwed up my face too.
I'd never heard that one.  James laughed again.

   "Pull my pud," James said, and, of course, he giggled again.  Iain and I
did too.  I had never heard that one either.

   We probably could have gone on naming the deed for days but I thought
James was relaxed and ready to do it.  I knew I was and Iain looked ready
too.

   We lay there, three to a bed, and masturbated.  James came first and
squirted out a few drops on his stomach.  His semen reminded me of mine
when I was about thirteen and masturbating four or five times a day, mostly
clear with a few streaks of white sperm.  Iain and I both came a minute or
so later and laid down a series of white puddles from our chest down to our
pubic hair.

   James leaned over and looked at my stomach, then leaned over further and
looked at Iain's, and finally looked at his own.

   "Don't worry, James," Iain said.  "Your testicles have just started
producing sperm.  David and I are grown males and you'll be one too in just
a few years.  Your penis is going to get bigger and your testicles will be
producing so much testosterone you'll be wanking three or four times every
day."

   "Yeah, but you guys are so big, especially you, David.  Do you think my
dick's ever going to be that big?"

   "James, don't worry about it," I said.  "I don't know how big your dick
is going to be but I think it's got a lot of growing to do.  Mine grew a
couple of inches after I was thirteen.  Your dick's already big enough to
please a woman and you could get her pregnant.  That's all any man could
wish for."

   `Yeah, that's easy for you to say, David.  I just hope I grow up to be
as tall as you and maybe have a dick just as big."

   "Well, just stretch it every day and maybe it will be," Iain said.

   I rolled out of bed, held out my hand to James, and helped him get up. I
did the same for Iain and, when we were all three standing up, I put my
arms over their shoulders.

   "I'm glad to have you two for company," I said.  "Now let's go take a
shower.  I want somebody to scrub my back."

   <><><>

   The second morning after James arrival, I asked him to go with me to
check my rabbit traps.  He was eager to go.  When Iain and I took him into
the clothing storeroom and finally managed to get him outfitted in his own
Robin Hood outfit, he looked at himself in the mirror and couldn't stop
grinning.  When I took him to the weapons storeroom and gave him a bow and
arrows, he was ready to shoot something.  When I strapped my knives around
my waist, he wanted one too.  Just as I had done with Iain, I laid Big Boy
in my hand, let him look at it, and told him he could use Little Boy if he
needed one.  I told him I'd carry both knives and he didn't object.  He
wanted a belt because the chemise I had helped him to find was so loose.  I
found one and strapped it around his waist.  He kept looking at my knives
and I suppose he was picturing himself with them on his belt.

   After outfitting James, we went back to our bedroom and I put on the
same clothes I had been wearing for days.  Iain stayed naked and, when
James asked if he was coming, he said that he wanted to stay and get Aimee
to teach him how to recognize edible plants.  I was glad to hear that he
still wanted to help me provide for us.

   I made my usual rounds to check my twenty rabbit traps.  I showed James
how to keep an arrow notched and to hold the bow and arrow with one hand.
He wanted to shoot at everything from birds to squirrels in the trees until
I told him he was responsible for finding every arrow he shot.

   I had two different kinds of traps, some deadfalls, some snares and it
seemed the snares were much better.  There was a big female rabbit in my
third snare and, when I felt her belly, she didn't feel pregnant.  I
offered to let James gut it but he begged off until next time.

   When I gutted the rabbit, James held the hind legs splayed apart.  I
explained that I wanted to cut the rabbit from asshole to throat and to do
it carefully so I could remove the stomach and entrails intact and keep the
skin intact.  He didn't flinch and he almost had his nose in the way.  He
wanted to carry the rabbit so I tied a string around the rabbit's head and
to his belt.

   We were on our way to my fourth trap when I brought up the subject I had
been avoiding.  I had told Iain that I intended to talk to James about the
subject and I thought he might respond better if James and I checked the
traps by ourselves.  Iain agreed.

   "James, who was the reverend and what was he doing to you?" I asked. 
His reaction said he was surprised that I knew.  He didn't answer.

   "When you arrived, you were delirious with fever and you were very sick.
You puked and pooped all over yourself.  I had to bathe you to clean off
the mess.  You asked the reverend not to fuck you.  You said you didn't
want to be fucked anymore.  Do you want to talk about it?"

   He shook his head no.

   "James let me make something very clear to you.  I'm not going to think
badly of you because the reverend was doing something evil to you.  I've
learned in my life that if you can talk to someone about bad things that
happen to you, it makes it easier for you to bear the memories of them. 
Bad things have happened to me too."

   "Yeah, but, I...I can't talk about it," he whispered.

   "James, this is a new world.  You shouldn't be ashamed of something that
happened to you in your past.  In a few years you're going to be a man and
we're going to have to trust each other and be friends in order to survive.
You can ask me anything about my life and I swear I'll answer all your
questions, just not today.  Today, I want you to tell me about your life.

   In fits and starts, as we were walking from one rabbit trap to another,
he told me.  He had never known his father and he vaguely remembered his
mother who had died from drugs.  He had never been adopted but he had lived
in a number of foster homes.  The last one he had lived in was with
reverend Moneyhand.  The reverend's name was really Mooneyhand but all the
kids called him Moneyhand.

   The reverend Moneyhand was a self-proclaimed reverend, a fundamentalist
preacher with a small church and a weekly television show.  He took in
James as a foster child when he was eleven even though he had a reputation
for being a troublesome boy.

   On the eleventh trap, we had another rabbit in the snare and I asked
James again if he wanted to gut it.  He surprised me.  He wanted to try.  I
held out Little Boy to him, cautioned him that the knife was sharper than a
razor, and then held the rabbit while he did it.  He followed my example
and cautiously cut around the asshole, then up the belly to the chin.  He
had his face really screwed up as he did it.  When he was finally able to
rake out the bag of stomach and intestines intact, he looked at me and I
gave him a big smile and a compliment on a job well done.  Again he wanted
to carry the rabbit so I hung it on his belt with the other one.

   Maybe that made it easier for him to get to the really bad parts of his
life.  The so-called reverend had started by letting James sleep with him,
then fondling him, then getting James to return the favor, and then sucking
James' dick.  When he tried to get James to return the favor -and James
emphatically said he didn't - the reverend had started fucking James.  In
the last three months, he had fucked James about twice each month.

   "You know that what he was doing to you was evil, don't you, James?" I
said.  "You're a boy, a child, not an adult, and you had no one else to
care for you.  An adult man who treats a boy like that is called a
pedophile and he's uniformly condemned for it.  He would have gone to
prison for years if you had told on him."

   "Yeah, but I had nowhere else to go," he said.  "Nobody wanted me.  I
guess I knew it was wrong but in some ways he was nice to me.  The second
couple I lived with, they beat me lots of times.  The reverend never did.
He gave me nice clothes and fed me good and let me play on his computer all
I wanted to.  I even liked some of the sex stuff he did to me."

   "What did he do that you liked?"

   "He sucked my dick sometimes.  I can already come and make stuff shoot
out and he would suck me `til I would shoot off and then he would swallow
it.  He wanted me to suck his dick but I just couldn't.  He was kind of fat
and really hairy and he had a little dick but I just couldn't suck him.  I
didn't want his stuff in my mouth."

   "And he fucked you.  How did you feel about that?"

   "I hated it.  Every time it would hurt me at first and then it didn't
hurt after a while and then it almost felt good some times.  He would shoot
off in my asshole and I would wait until he was asleep and I would go to
the bathroom and shit his stuff out.  I hated it.  I just felt so nasty and
I didn't like feeling that way.  He said god would reward me in heaven for
helping him get over his lustful feelings.  I didn't believe him."

   "What happened to the reverend Moneyhand?  Do you know?  Did you maybe
go to sleep one night and then wake up here?

   He looked down and then up at me and a big grin broke out on his face. I
knew he had done something to the reverend.

   "What did you do to the reverend, James?

   "You swear you won't ever tell anybody else.  I don't want to go to
prison.  Swear!"

   "James, I swear on the memory of my father and mother I will never tell
anybody else.  Now tell me."

   "I blew him up!" he said and looked straight at me with an even wider
grin on his face.  "I gave him a really good blow-job."

   As he told it, he had set the thermostat on the heating furnace just a
couple of degrees cooler than the room temperature and then sawed through
the gas line going to the reverend's stove.  He knew the house would fill
with escaping gas and when the temperature dropped the furnace would come
on and ignite the gas.  He was about to crawl out the window in his room
when the house exploded and he woke up here.

   "Good," I said, and meant it.  "He deserved it."

   "You're not going to tell on me; are you?"

   "No, James.  I've already said I wouldn't.  Now I want you to swear that
you will never tell anybody else either.  I want this to be a secret
between the two of us."

   "I swear, David.  I don't have a mother and a father but I swear."

   "You can tell Iain.  He heard what you said too.  If you want to, tell
him but nobody else, OK?"

   He nodded.  He was smiling but I could see tears in his eyes.  I didn't
know what to do but I wanted to do something to ease his pain so I hugged
him.  He put his arms around me, tried to bury his face I my chest, and
hung on to me.  When he finally turned loose, I slugged him gently on the
shoulder.

   "OK, let's run the rest of the rabbit traps.  Are you Robin Hood or one
of his merry men?"

   "Naah," he said.  "I'm Little John, I mean Little James."

   "No you're not," I said.  "You're Big James."

   "And you're Robin Hood."
   TO BE CONTINUED: