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Lincoln's Pride Ch. 01

By: tarzanacide



Series 2: 

7 years later. 

+{Lincoln's Pride}+

Chapter 1

*****

"Leenk-un," He said it slowly, showing his gleaming white teeth as he enunciated, scrunching his large nose as though deciding if it really should be my name or not. It made his trimmed, black beard form a square around his full, reddish-brown lips. "Lincoln, why the second L? You don't pronounce it do you? English is so wasteful with letters... Lincoln Karsten, a very blonde boy name. Why were you named after a president?" He lifted his eyes from my wrinkled, hand-written resume to meet my gaze momentarily to indicate I should respond. 

I cleared my throat. "I don't know, sir. I could ask my father if you like." 

He waved a dismissive hand towards me with a smile to indicate he was joking and went back to reading the paper I had painstakingly written with a ruler and my best handwriting. I fidgeted with my new shirt. I had no interview clothes. 

---

My friend Bridget had found this royal blue, barely worn polo from the donation pile at the thrift store on main street. She saved it for me. It fit a little snuggly on my small, but somewhat muscular frame. Rarely, one of our town's better families threw out stuff they had purchased rather than drive back down into Los Angeles to return it. In my town, you either got your clothes from there or the Walmart if you could afford it. Leaving town took gas and ambition, something most families in our poor little mountain town lacked. 

---

"You've played baseball since you were a kid. Are you any good, little president?" He looked up at me with a smirk, again mocking my name somewhat. 

---

I'd never been around Arab people. It was something strange to me. His voice; deep, thoughtful, but also relaxed and completely in power. It was an accent I'd never heard and it had a lulling rhythm to it that made me sleepy. He was easy enough to understand, comfortable with English tones and phrasing. But something about it let me know he was a man used to people complying to whatever he willed. He pronounced my name like it was exotic to the taste, but bitter going down.

He was handsome enough but foreign, dark, and I had a hard time reading his expressions. He was a hulk of a man probably brought on through hard work with expensive gym equipment rather than actual sports or labor. His coffee colored face showed flawless skin and a powerful jaw. Large, almost black eyes peered into me from below heavy black eyebrows. A prominent brown nose, though large, added an air of importance to him. It suited him and accentuated his looks. His lips, reddish-brown, were framed by a neatly trimmed black beard and opened to perfect white teeth. For all his expensive trappings and trimmed beard, he still very much had an air of youth to him. He couldn't have been that much older than I am. 

"Yes... yes sir. We won north county pennant my Junior and Senior years," I smiled as my chest puffed out, excited to talk about something where I excelled. I pushed back my blonde hair. My sister had cut it this morning. It was shaved on the sides and had about two inches on top. His was a similar cut, but he had it slicked back with gel. I thought I noticed it thinning slightly on top. I smiled to myself. 

His office was on the top floor in downtown LA. This wasn't a place I'd ever been. Glass, steel, corporate, I was far from home. 

I'd awoken at 5 this morning and my family helped me get ready. Getting this internship would mean a new life for me, far from anything I'd ever known. After my haircut, I'd showered and put on the tight, new-to-me polo shirt tucked into khaki pants a size too small. I'd made a PB&J for the trip and piled into my dad's old truck. 

He'd driven me all the way down to Valencia to catch the metrolink. I knew he'd spent the last of his gas money to get me there and I'd spent the ten dollars I had saved from my tips at the local cafe to get train fare into the city. 

"Do your best, take what you are offered. Be polite and follow orders. This is your chance to get out of here," he had signed to me before I got on the train. He's deaf, so is my sister. It runs in my family, but I ended up with perfect hearing. 

"You are 17?," he raised an eyebrow at me, a look of disappointment crossed his face. 

"No sir, that's my birthdate on there. Today is the 17th, I'm 18. I can start work with you whenever you like," I quickly inserted. I sat up in my chair, subconsciously trying to look larger, older, important.

"Your birthday, your 18th. No party? No wild first night of manhood?" He was smiling with confusion. 

"No sir, this interview is everything to me, my future. My family made a cake for me last night," I said with a smile and licked my lip, still tasting the fresh strawberry icing. 

"And you have a passport?" He asked. 

"Yes sir, my father takes scrap metal back and forth from Mexico sometimes. I go with him to translate and haul things," I assured and raised an arm to flex the bicep as proof of my lugging ability. 

He went through a million other questions, wanted me to prove my ability in sign language. It didn't seem strange though since the internship came with payment for signed interpretations. He even put me on facetime with some blonde man who signed back and forth with me for a few minutes before giving him a smile and the Ok on my skills. He was very kind and had asked me about my family. He signed that the job would take me far from home and far from my comfort zone. 

It was going really well. I turned back when the facetime man hung up and he told me all about the internship. I would work as his business assistant and take college classes online. I would do sign language interpretations when he needed it and his company would pay for my schooling. He even offered a place to live including clothes and food. It was the chance of a lifetime. 

Finally he set down my resume and adjusted his blue, silk tie. Folding his hands in front of him on the desktop, he leaned towards me. 

"And what of your morals? What should I know about Lincoln?" he asked flatly with a slight insinuation that I was somehow lacking, hiding something disgusting. 

"I..." I stammered, at a loss. "I don't do drugs. I do have a girlfriend. We dated through high school. She was my cheerleader. She's good though and wants to wait until we can go to college and get married. But... well you know. I did mess around with a few other girls. But, If you give me this chance. I promise I will follow whatever rules or customs your um, your people follow. I'll try any food, really I'm not picky. Bugs, dogs, whatever. Oh wait, that was offensive. Sorry, I..." 

"Very well!" he cut me off, seeming amused at my floundering, "And no tattoos, correct?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"No, sir, never," I was feeling uncomfortable. 

"You don't sound very convincing. Stand up," It was definitely an order, not an invitation. I got to my feet. He stood too and came around the desk. 

It was the first time I had seen him on his feet. He was quite impressive. He was nearly my same height, maybe an inch shorter. But he was larger, stronger, and seemed to relish the confident power he exuded as he strode towards me. His expensive blue button-up shirt was filled with a muscular chest and arms. From behind the desk he seemed harmless, up close it was a different story. His strong cologne hit my nose and gave my allergies a stir. 

He stared me down for a minute and then straightened his back, seeming a little taken aback that there was even a millimeter difference in our heights. 

"Take your shirt and pants off, have a seat on the table," he pointed towards an actual table with chairs that was over in the corner framed by the floor to ceiling windows. He turned away from me, pulling what looked like a black medical bag from the floor behind his desk. 

"I... uh. What?" I stammered and he turned back to me with a look of annoyance. 

"Clothes," he said very slowly with a look of disdain. "Clothes, come, off. You, sit, table. I, check, you, for, health, so, I, don't, hire, a, sick, assistant." He enunciated each word like he was talking to his dog. 

I watched him roll up his sleeves and take a stethoscope from his bag. He seemed legit but it still felt odd. I heard my dad's signs in my head telling me to do my best and take whatever was offered. I don't think he knew this was going to be part of things. 

I slipped off the polo, showing my bare, pale chest crowned by small sharp nipples. I had muscles, definition, but no hair to show for it. My khakis came off next. They were tight on me and they pulled my boxers down with them over my proud ass. I stumbled against his desk as I tried to pull them back up. My cock, soft but proud dangled out and I stuffed it back in the waistband. I caught his eyes as I raised my head, he just shrugged. 

"Your clothes don't seem to fit. Do you have some reason why things need to be so tight? Who are you showing off for?" He cracked a smile. 

I folded my polo neatly on the chair where I'd sat and did the same with my pants. I placed my shoes under the chair and stood there in black socks and my old, worn, red flannel boxers. 

"I uh, they were what I could afford for the interview." I said feeling humility hover over me like a threatening cloud. I lowered my eyes to look at his tie. It was hard to meet his gaze standing there in his office on display. I felt my cheeks blush. 

"On the table then," he instructed. He followed me over to the table where a hot ray of sunshine splashed across me, warming my bare skin in his cold office. I sat up and scooted back. He started to touch me freely, listening to my chest and then my back. His hands squeezed my muscles to check their firmness. My cock started to twitch in my boxers at his touch. It was confused as no one had explored me like this before. I tried to calm it. 

I'd worked hard to erase the baby fat of my youth. Sports and work had left me with something that impressed the other players in the locker room. I'd felt their eyes on me too, but theirs held jealous, his held interested amusement. I felt a mix of humility and pride as he felt around to confirm this.

As he leaned in close, his cheek near my nose, I got another full whiff of his cologne. I hoped I'd get used to it.

He had me cough and he took my blood pressure and felt around my throat and looked in my ears and all that stuff doctors do, only he was a businessman. 

Again, he seemed amused by my body. I'm pretty proud of it. I'm not mega muscle like he seemed to be, but my life is a workout; running, lifting, batting, pitching. I just kept staring ahead as he explored. He flicked at my nipples and squeezed my pecs. I knew he must have had a medical reason, but it made my cock grow full in my boxers. He seemed to ignore this, but I kept a hand in my lap to cover.

"You aren't used to being touched?" he asked though it was more of a statement. 

"Not by a dude, no," I admitted honestly. I'd had my pecs squeezed by girls, felt soft hair against my nipples when my girlfriend would go as far as she could and just "nap" with me. It was a different feeling and I was annoyed at how my body reacted to it. 

I watched the clock on the wall hit 1pm. I'd been there over an hour, that had to be a good sign. I knew he wanted to hire me. I was jumping through all of his little hoops. 

"Not bad, you obviously don't smoke and your signs are all nice. Any health concerns?" he asked. 

"Just a few allergies, nothing much, sir," I lied and thought of the Epi-pen I kept in my backpack in case I ever met a bee. I hadn't needed it in years, but my father spent good money replacing it every time it came within a month of expiration. I didn't want to seem defective. 

"I'll need to measure you, the job comes with clothes, proper fitting clothes. I hope your body can handle them," he mocked my interview clothes as though I had chosen them willingly. 

He pulled out a measuring tape next and had me stand. He weighed me and commented that I needed to bulk up and he would have to train me hard. He measured my chest, arms, biceps, making little notes on his phone. He went for my hips, waist, legs, inseam, getting dangerously close to my cock. I felt myself get hard again as he brushed my sensitive thigh. I jumped back a little. He looked annoyed by that.

"Stand still, why so squirmy?" He barked. 

"Sorry sir, I'm ticklish there," I said and covered my growing erection. 

"Ticklish? Still just a boy, little president," he laughed and rubbed his hand firmly but slowly up my thigh again. It sent a shiver through my body and I moved my hand to stop him. But then I realized my tent was jutting up near his face. 

"I, oh God. I'm so sorry! It never does that, I swear!" My face blushed and I stepped back away from him and covered myself. I cursed myself for not having better control. 

"You are still just a boy," he confirmed, "You cannot yet control it. It is nothing to be embarrassed about, or is it? I know white boys are on the smaller end of the international spectrum, but it can't be that small, right?" 

"I am quite blessed, thank you. I have seen the competition in many locker rooms and I have no fears there," I beamed proudly but reminded myself not to overdo it. 

"Of course," he said with a mocking tone and smiled to himself. He stepped back and held his phone up, "now some pictures for the stylist," he assured. 

"Oh uh, do we have to, sir? I feel kinda weird about it," I hugged my chest awkwardly, feeling a little too on display here. 

"Am I wasting my time here, Lincoln? Did you want a future here with my business or not, little president? I'm not hiring someone who questions my authority, am I?" he said flatly. 

"How do you want me to stand, sir?" I straightened up and swallowed my pride. I wasn't about to go back to my father empty handed, bringing back the burden of my failure to them. 

He took pictures of me standing tall, arching my back, raising my arms. It was an odd little photo shoot. And then he stopped and swiped thoughtfully through them on his phone. 

"No, no, it's these hideous old boxers. They make your body look misshapen. Why would you wear something so unflattering? They need to go, lose them," he barked. 

"Uh," I shifted uncomfortably, looking in all directions like somehow movement would solve this. "I can't. That's not... no... sir." 

He laughed, "You are worried about getting turned on by being naked in front of a real man." 

"No, I'm not gay. I mean there's nothing wrong with gay people, but I... no sir. I'm not gay," I was blushing like a tomato farm and suddenly covering myself. I felt a heavy air of shame settle over me like a noose. 

"This job requires you to do as you're told. If you can not do that then I suggest you stop wasting my time. This is twice in the same assignment you have questioned me and the job hasn't even been offered to you," he said harshly and looked stung at my reluctance to comply with his orders twice now.

"I'm not gay," I said again more to myself than to him and went towards my clothes. This was turning out to not be worth it at all. I was here for a job, a future. He was offering me a porn shoot filled with humiliation. I may be a jock, but I'm not a dumb one. 

His words stopped me as I reached for my shirt, "Your family scrapes by. I investigated your situation in considering you for this internship. You could send home only half of your paycheck from working for me and they would live like royalty here. Or you could leave now and go back to scraping alongside them. It's a hard life, but it is one to which you are accustomed. It's your choice, little president." 

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. Did I hear right? Was he offering to provide for us? Would my dad be able to rest after so many years of working every odd job he could find to eek out a life for us? Wasn't a little of my pride worth it to make everything better for my family? I sighed and bit my lip. "Fuck," I whispered to myself. I'd do it for them. 

I didn't look back at him. I pushed my boxers to the floor and stepped out of them. My cock, normally about three inches when soft, shriveled a little at the thought of what I was preparing to do. 

I went back to the sunlight, spread my feet apart and looked right into the lens of his phone. I clasped my hands behind my butt as he snapped away with his phone making little clicking noises. My eyes wandered down to his pants, but they had been pretty filled out before this, so I couldn't really tell on what level he was enjoying this. 

"Yes, quite impressive," he smirked sarcastically at my soft cock. This wasn't what it normally looked like when out around others. After a win it was stuffed like a horse. When I was in the backseat with whatever girl wanted to thank me for that win, it was at full mast. 

"It's... normally," the words weren't coming out well, "forget it." 

"It's ok. Don't worry your little pride. These are just for clothes selection. Backside now," he said and I turned, put my hands on the table as he snapped away at my proud, hard muscled, white butt. And then my dick turned on me like a cold traitor. It started to rise up against the touch of the expensive smooth wood table. Maybe it was being under the microscope of insane wealth and power this man so confidently possessed. 

"Your ass is well worked," he stated. 

"I... what does that mean?" I turned a head behind me, shifting my weight and bouncing my hard, muscled glutes. 

"It's quite large, you must do a heavy squat routine," He commented and I swear I saw his tongue trace across his lips. 

"No sir, never in my life. Just a lot of sports and lifting," I said honestly and turned back to the table with a smirk. 

"Well," he said and I heard his voice crack and then regain it's position, "No need to spread your legs so widely. Your little pink bud is on display." 

I quickly brought my knees together, but I thought I heard the click of his phone camera. 

"That should be good enough for now." I pushed off the table still thinking about his eyes on my ass. I forgot that my cock was rock hard until I saw his eyes appraise it as I turned towards my clothes. 

"Not bad, for a white boy. I'm sure you're quite the prize amongst your mates," he laughed sarcastically and set his phone down on the desk as I turned back to face him. 

I turned around at him with flared nostrils and fuming eyes. "Yes... Sir." I barked a little too harshly, this was a job interview after all. I tempered my tone to him, "Sorry, I mean yes sir, yes I am." 

"I hurt your pride with the photos, but I proved that you can take orders. They are necessary for a proper wardrobe which you obviously lack. If you are here to learn how to run a company such as this," he spread a hand towards the window to remind me how high up we are and how much of his company was below us, "Then you must first learn to follow orders." 

"Yes, yes sir," my face softened a little. I had met his expectations. Someday I would exceed them. 

"My stylist will have clothes for you tomorrow. You will return by 10 AM. Now go home and be with your family for one last night. Tomorrow your world explodes." He turned and went to his desk as I put my clothes back on. I was tying my shoes when he came back over and handed me an envelope. 

"You will pack one SMALL bag and leave the rest behind. I don't want you lugging around much when you are traveling with me. You will have enough to handle carrying my things. Do you need a ride home?" he asked, "I can send a driver." 

"No sir. I can take the train home," I said. I shoved the fat envelope into my backpack and went back to stand in front of him. I shook his hand and stared him in the chin. I couldn't look him in the eyes after what we had just experienced, what I had just done. 


Lincoln's Pride Ch. 01



"Lincoln," he said softly as I walked away. I turned back to him, hitching my backpack over one shoulder. 

"Yes sir?" 

"Happy Birthday, little president." 

"Thank you, Mr. Hamad." 

*********

It was a hot 12 block walk back to Union Station from his office. I was in uncomfortable shoes and I really needed a shower. My mind reeled with what had happened. I couldn't go back there. I had made such an ass of myself and let him control me. That wasn't me. No one had ever done that to me. I was always the star, the popular kid in our little town. I led the team, coached other kids. No one ever made me do things I didn't want to do, things I knew were wrong. 

I fished my ticket out of my backpack and the envelope fell to the ground. I picked it up and shoved it back in my backpack. I thought it was probably just some papers, a job description, whatever he wanted me to know about the internship and signing job. 

I settled into the seat on the train which was nearly empty, too early for rush hour commuters. I'd have to call my dad, get him to pick me up at the station. I went for my cellphone to text him that I would be there in an hour. That's when I decided to look at the envelope. 

The envelope was his business stationery. It had his name and an address in New York City. "Wow," I thought to myself. I would be going to New York and maybe London and who knows where else. My heart perked up at that. I hadn't thought of that when he asked me to undress. "No," I shook my head. I am not some prostitute. 

But then I thought, "Well he did just ask me to get naked so he could take pictures for his stylist." I'd gotten hard on my own. He didn't ask me to. He also didn't try to touch me. He didn't stare at me like some perv. Maybe I really had misread the whole thing. 

"Stupid Lincoln," I whispered to myself. I was the one who mentioned the gay thing. I totally embarrassed myself by misreading the situation. I'd promised to go with whatever his cultural norms were and here I was acting like some hick from the sticks the second he asks me to go outside my comfort zone. 

"Fuck," I whispered and checked around me to see no one had heard my cursing. And he still wanted to give me a second chance. He'd even offered to take care of my family's financial situation. He hadn't asked anything dirty of me. I was so stupid. I slapped the envelope against my forehead and the seal broke. A few bills fell out, hundreds. 

"Holy Shit!" I exclaimed, this time attracting a disapproving look from an old lady in the other aisle. "Sorry ma'am!" She grunted at me and went back to her novel. 

I pried open the envelope and tried to discreetly count the bills. There were twenty crisp bills in there. They couldn't be real. I didn't even know what a hundred dollar bill looked like. Paired with the five that had fallen into my lap that made $2,500. I looked around again, this time checking for thieves. I stuffed the envelope back down into my backpack so I could look at it more discreetly. Next to the hundreds was a piece of paper. 

"Happy birthday, Lincoln. Tomorrow your world explodes," it read. Below it was his signature in thick, black ink that looped in eloquent cursive, "Samir Mohammed Hamad." 

********

"No way," my dad said when I got into his truck and signed all that had happened. "That just doesn't sound right." 

"It is, dad," I assured him. "He wants me to start right away and..." I didn't know how to explain it honestly. It really didn't even make sense to me. 

So I lied, "He said they are desperate for people who can interpret sign language. Apparently it's a big deal in the middle east." I felt a stab at my heart for lying to my father and even worse for doing it so easily. 

"Well thank God I'm deaf! 45 years later it finally paid off!" he signed with a laugh. I saw a tear form at the corner of his eyes. "I knew you would be ok. I knew you would make me proud. I knew you were the one I wouldn't have to worry about." He sniffed back a few tears. I don't think I'd seen him cry in years.

"Aww dad, no don't cry. We're going to be ok. I'm going to make sure you don't have to break your back trying to give us a nice life. This money is for you. We can pay off bills and the rent for the trailer. Maybe we can get a nicer one! He says I will make a lot of money and he can have some sent to you each month." I was signing a mile a minute as we sat there in the station's commuter lot.

We went and filled my dad's truck with gas. I don't think the gauge needle remembered how to go that far. He insisted that we stop somewhere before heading back up into the mountains. 

"It's your birthday, Link," he signed, "You need to buy something for yourself. Some new clothes maybe." He was so proud of me. 

We went to a department store in the mall before leaving Valencia. I picked out two new shirts. One was a blue v-neck shirt with white stripes across the chest. It fit me snugly, showed off the pecs I had worked hard on at the school gym this spring. The other was more for business. It was a nice button up with almost the same blue color as the one Mr. Hamad had worn. It certainly wasn't as expensive. 

I got a pair of jeans that were the right size and then I picked out two new pairs of flannel boxers. I knew I would torch the old ones when I got home. I'd spent enough but my dad insisted that I also get shoes. I was just going to look to make him happy, but I found a nice pair of blue deck shoes. They would go with the two shirts I had bought. 

We stopped at the grocery store and stocked up on the way home. I made sure my dad had a lot of steak and good vegetables for meals for the week. My sister would flip out when she saw it all. I was a man now, taking care of my family. It was a pride I hadn't felt before. It filled my chest and strained my muscles. 

**********

The next morning everyone got up early and went with me to the train station. Dad, my sister, two older brothers, we all piled into dad's truck to see me off. I started to feel uncomfortable at my sudden rise within the family. I was sure my brothers were brewing resentment. I pushed that thought out of my head though. Making sure they would not have to worry anymore was worth it all. It was worth everything. 

I took the train back down to Los Angeles. I had on my new shoes and jeans with the button-up shirt. The other shirt and the other pair of new boxers was in my small duffle bag. I had taken a small plastic photo album and my dodgers cap and pajamas. I'd gelled my blonde hair up in spikes. It wouldn't slick back like Mr. Hamad's hair. That took training. 

I was outside his office 15 minutes early and checked in with his secretary. He wasn't in yet, she told me. I took a seat in the waiting room by the window. 

Los Angeles laid out before me like a slab of concrete punctuated by a mismatch of architectural hits and misses. I'd never seen it like this. We took a field trip once a year in school. I'd gone to the tarpits, the getty, the zoo. In High School I was on the math team and we once went to a school up in the hills for a competition. It proved we were idiots, but we did get a participation prize and free pizza. 

And now here I was, staring over it like my kingdom. I wanted to rule it some day. I would work hard here. I would do whatever weird cultural thing he wanted and this would be mine. someday... 

"You are early, you listened," a surprised voice said from behind me, interrupting my fantasy. I turned to see Mr Hamad standing over me. He had on a red button-up shirt with a matching silk tie and nice pants. 

"Yes sir, I am here and waiting and thank you so much for my gift, I..." I started. 

"Your gift?" he stated with amusement. "You will earn that, little president. You will earn what is given to you, for better or worse." 

"Yes, yes sir. I definitely," I scrambled to my feet. He shoved a black leather workcase into my chest. I grabbed my duffel bag and scrambled behind him to his office. I made a mental note to stop blubbering like an idiot around him. It definitely didn't build confidence. 

He didn't comment on my outfit or ask me to get naked. I guess that was a good sign. He walked me through his filing system and started to explain, impatiently, what his business was about. 

His secretary came in and set a delivered box on the edge of his desk. 

"Oh, that will be your laptop, go ahead and set it up." he said to me, "I needed a break anyways. I'll be back in 5." 

I opened the box to find a shiny new laptop with an apple on it. He had said it was mine. I'd never had anything so nice. I tried my best to walk through the setup before he came back, but I was still finishing the updates. 

He returned with a blonde man in an impressive suit trailing behind him. 

"Oh," Mr. Hamad said as though he'd forgotten he'd hired me. "This is your replacement," he said to the man with him while pointing a finger towards me. 

"Oh,. Hi. I'm Lincoln," I went and offered him my hand. He was fit but slight, his fancy suit made him look a little gay. When he opened his mouth, his tone confirmed his sexuality. 

"He is adorable! Little Ken doll. He's awfully young though, but you always did like that," he said to Mr. Hamad without shaking my hand. He spoke about me like I was a dog who wouldn't understand. "I'm Caleb," he said as though I needed to write it down. 

"Pleased to meet you, Caleb. You were Mr. Hamad's old assistant?" I asked with a smile. 

"Old? I'm 25," his eyes burned into me and I heard Mr. Hamad give a genuine laugh as he went to his desk. 

"Oh uh... No, I... I meant former. Sorry, former, not old. Definitely not old sir, um Caleb," I fumbled. 

"Oh yes," Mr. Hamad called over, "I forgot to mention that Lincoln tends to blubber on with words. Add that to my list of things to fix about him." 

"I was NEVER," Caleb punctuated the last word and then repeated it, "NEVER Mr. Hamad's assistant. I was his cub. You will learn the difference. Now I am in charge of his California operations. You will get used to taking orders from me when you are in town." 

"Yes sir, I will. Of course, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," I started. 

"You see? He blubbers," Mr. Hamad called from behind me to interrupt my awkward word stream. 

"I do," I said and then stopped myself. 

That got a laugh and an adoring smile from Caleb who was a good six inches shorter than me. "He's cute, Samir, keep him close or I might steal him." Caleb put his hand on my shoulder and let it slide down my right arm. He squeezed my bicep as he spoke. I blushed, hoping Mr. Hamad would rescue me from the gay. But I didn't move or flinch at his touch. I was determined to not fuck things up like I had done yesterday. 

"Oh," Caleb said as he turned to leave and then turned back to me. He raised his hands and signed to me, "I almost forgot, you sign, right?" 

"Yes, it was my first language," I signed back excitedly. "I signed with the guy on facetime yesterday during my interview." I smiled. For some reason, knowing he signed created an instant friendship between us. I felt a big grin spreading across my face. 

"That was Emerson. You will want to keep him happy. He is key to keeping Samir happy. Don't forget that when you meet him," Caleb signed and then leaned up to kiss my cheek. 

"Thank you. Any tips you have. I can use them," I signed back and then Caleb left. 

I went back to setting up the beautiful new laptop Mr. Hamad had given me. He had me sync the calendar to his and it instantly filled with a billion appointments and reminders.

"That is one of your jobs, keep me going," he said and then set me up with email and everything else I would need. 

By the time we finished my stomach started to growl. I hadn't packed a sandwich today, but I'd kept twenty dollars of the money he had given me. The rest was for my family. 

"Lunch, you need lunch," he said as I was knelt next to his chair helping him adjust a picture on his computer of some property he was purchasing. "We can get lunch at the hotel and drop off your things. We'll finish the workday there. Come!" 

He stood and I went for my duffel bag and then his work case but he stopped me and said I needed to get his laptop as well as my own. I loaded his into his work case and then packed up mine in the new carrier that came with it. I was carrying a ton now, but I kept up with him as we made our way to the elevators. 

"Wow, nice car, sir," I exclaimed when we got down to the parking garage and he opened the trunk of a shiny new silver mercedes sports coupe."Would you like me to drive you?" I asked desperate for the chance to feel it move. 

"No, that's quite alright. It's a rental, my cars at home can actually perform." He said nonchalantly as I loaded his things into the trunk. I packed them nicely and closed the trunk gently before following him. He opened the passenger side door for me and I slid into slick leather seats that held me like an angel's cloud. "Seatbelt!" he barked, interrupting my pleasure moment, before closing my door. 

*******

His hotel was close to West Hollywood, a towering glass structure that looked brand new. I struggled again with our work bags and my clothes. He seemed amused, but offered no help. 

We ate in his top floor suite at a circular glass table by the window after he changed into a pair of workout shorts and a t-shirt. I was getting used to seeing LA from high perches. 

"Caleb is very nice! I'm sure with the training you gave him as your intern that he will be very successful with your operations here," I complimented before shoving a forkful of salad into my mouth. 

"No," he laughed, "Caleb is a failure at business but I needed something to keep him busy and distracted from spending my money." 

"Your money, sir? Why would he spend what he does not earn?" 

"Because, little president, I did not discipline him properly. I gave in to his whining. I let him get away with disrespect and laziness. I was young and... I will not make the same mistake with you," he said it as though Caleb was more than just an assistant. 

"Definitely sir! I am ready to learn what you have to teach me. I can take orders well. I was going to join the army if this didn't work out!" I assured with a smile. It earned a nod from him. 

*****

After lunch, Mr. Hamad left to workout. He had me enter sets of numbers into spreadsheets while he was gone. There was no music or tv on to distract me and so I finished before he returned. I hoped he would be proud. 

I looked around the hotel suite. There was a bar, a living room, the small dining area where we had just eaten and the. A door which I presumed led to the bedroom. 

I needed to pee and didn't see a bathroom. It must be in the bedroom. I started to go in but he had it locked. I danced around trying to distract myself. 

After what felt like an eternity, a very sweaty man returned to his suite. I bounced as he entered, "please sir, the restroom!" I begged. 

He looked annoyed and took a sip from his water bottle. "And the work? Show me first," he stayed by the bar indicating I should bring the computer to him. 

I brought it to him and opened it. I was crossing my legs and feeling a pain in my stomach. He scrolled through the sheets and pretended to find little mistakes but I saw the smile on his lips. He enjoyed making me wait. 

"Please please!" I begged but he held up a finger to silence me. 

Finally, he fished a key from his pocket and let me into the bedroom. The bathroom was on the other side. I ran over and was about to close the door when his strong hand leaned against it. 

"I have needs as well," he said and followed me inside. I didn't have the power to argue so I raced to the toilet and pushed the seat up. I let go of a heavy stream as soon as I got my cock out. My dick was rock hard so I had trouble keeping it pointed in the bowl. I wasn't sure if that was from my severe need to piss, or from being watched. 

"Keep it in the bowl, does the little president need a lesson on that as well?" I heard his voice dangerously close behind me. I smelled his sweat as he peeled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. It was the heavy musk of a grown man of power. In all of my years in high school locker rooms, nothing else compared. It knocked me a bit, but I couldn't help taking a deep breath. 

"Oh!" I jumped a little and splashed some on the floor. "I'll clean it, sorry sir." 

"Yes, you will. Now get out, I need to shower before I go meet Caleb for drinks." He ordered. 

I finished and tucked myself away. I turned to see his naked backside as he stepped into the glass shower. His body was pure steel, muscles everywhere they should be on a man of his status. I found myself feeling jealous. I had a long way to go to get to his size. I washed my hands and tried to force myself not to watch his silhouette in the foggy glass door. I saw him stretch this way and that, soaping his shadowy body. I was fascinated. I had never seen a muscle mass like that up close or naked. It was a work of art, a work of determination. 

"Out, Lincoln. Leave or join me," he called from behind the glass to let me know my admiration, fascination were not unnoticed. 

I felt like a complete pervert. What was I doing? I wasn't into guys like that. I had spent hours in the showers and locker rooms with my teammates and I never got turned on like that. 

It was admiration, I suddenly named as though that excused everything. I just admired him and wanted to learn from him. Isn't there a level of sexual attraction we hold to all of our idols? 

Pro baseball players who can knock it out of the park; The rocker whose hit I can't stop playing on repeat and banging my head to on the school bus; That skater whose videos I watch on youtube and try to practice the tricks he does. If they were in that shower with Mr. Hamad, I couldn't turn away either.

And then I got hard thinking about the four of them in the shower. What was wrong with me? I was turning into a total hornball around this guy. 

*******

I was back in the living room working on the next assignment he had left for me when he came out of the bedroom. He had on a tight black t-shirt and red shorts that hugged his bottom. He slipped on red canvas deck shoes and came over to see what I was working on. 

"I'm just going down to the bar on the corner to meet Caleb for drinks. You will finish working here and then tidy up in the bathroom. Collect my gym clothes and work clothes into the laundry bag. Housekeeping already came today so for the rest of the day the job is yours. I should be back for dinner. If not, I will have something sent up for you. Do not leave the suite unless you hear the fire alarm. I left clothes for you to change into when you finish work here. Be good, make me money." 

He leaned over me with his cheek close to mine, both facing my laptop's screen. His arm was spread across my back, gripping the armrest on the other side of me. I felt his warmth and my body stirred. His cologne was back in full force, but now it seemed palatable, nice. He rubbed his hand through my hair to mess it up and then left. 

I tried to finish the work. My mind kept thinking about seeing his naked body. "Admiration, not gay, Admiration, nothing queer about it," I kept telling myself, but my dick was hard just thinking about it. 

I pushed away from the table and closed the laptop. Sitting here boned up wasn't going to get my work done. I knew it had been awhile since I'd jerked off. Maybe that would help. 

I went to the bathroom and grabbed at my bulging jeans. I leaned against the marble counter and tried to picture a hot girl kneeling in front of me with a willing mouth. I'd shove it into her. Well, that had never actually happened to me, but I saw it once in a porn clip I'd watched at a friend's house. 




Lincoln's Pride Ch. 01



"Fuck yeah you want it," I said to the imagined girl sucking on me. I had pulled out my meat and was working it in my hands. I was rock hard with the need to release all the tension that had built up over the last few days. I unbuttoned my shirt and stepped out of my pants. I put my clothes on the dry part of the counter. 

I turned back to lean against the counter, but the imagined girl had disappeared. I was back to reality as my eyes caught his heap of gym clothes on the floor near the shower. On top of it was a black jockstrap with red stripes. I'd never seen one that wasn't plain white. I wore them for baseball. 

I don't know why, but I went to pick it up. His pungent musk hit my nose and watered my eyes as soon as my fingers touched it. I turned it over and looked inside the pouch. It was well worn and the pouch was stretched in the middle as though someone had used it for a sling shot. 

I brought it closer to my face and pushed my boxers to the floor. I stepped forward wearing only my white socks and took a breath of his scent. I turned towards the mirror, saw my white, muscled frame. I felt a wave of guilt hit me. I had my dick in one hand and my boss's black jockstrap in the other sniffing it close to my face. My hair was still tousled from where he'd messed it playfully before leaving. 

I closed my eyes again and stroked my cock. And then I fantasized about my girlfriend. It was nighttime and I had my dad's truck and drove her way up to the overlook over our small town. There she was, in my head, laid out on the blanket in the back of my dad's old pickup truck. She was naked and playing with her pussy and I was rock hard and ready to go at her. 

Just as I was about to slip in though everything went to crazy, I felt a heavy hand rub across my chest and I looked down to see his coffee colored muscles. He pulled me back against his hair, rippled chest. I knew I couldn't put it in her like I wanted to. Instead he pushed me to the side. I was on my knees and watched as Mr. Hamad, naked and stroking a huge club that dangled between his legs, pushed into her. She was in pain but loving it. Her eyes looked over at me and seemed to say, "Lincoln could never get even close to filling me the way this man does." 

I wasn't hurt by my hijacked fantasy. I was strangely turned on watching him in my head fill and stretch her. Something inside me told me she would never let me near her again now that she had been with him. She was begging for it as he pounded into her. I knew I wouldn't last long with that scene playing in my head. 

I leaned back against the cold marble counter of the bathroom and fisted my hard inches until my body tensed, rocked, and sprayed all over my chest and the mirror. I collapsed back against the counter and pushed myself up to sit on it. My hard muscled ass felt warm against the cold marble. I leaned back against the mirror feeling my cum squish against my back form where I had sprayed on it. 

My chest heaved as I regained my breath. I still held the jockstrap covering my mouth and nose. I breathed it deeply to get my air back, get his scent deep into my lungs. It was the hottest fucking fantasy I'd ever fisted to, ever dreamt of. Watching him take her like I never could was something now burned into my brain. 

One last breath and I let it slip down to my chest. I was back to reality and feeling strange about my mind's choice in fantasies. 

I scrambled off the counter and started wiping the cum with his jockstrap. It would go to the bottom of the laundry bag. I started picking up his other clothes as my cock dangled, softening but still dripping the last bits of cum. 

I put everything into the laundry bag including my work clothes. He hadn't told me to, but I assumed they would need to be laundered as well. Maybe he'd want me to use the pay machine on my own? I'd ask him later. 

And then my eyes caught sight of a pile of rocks covered in coffee-colored skin that appeared next to me. He looked confused and then amused and then slightly angry. I froze with a look of severe shame. Our eyes met in the mirror but then I lowered mine quickly. Maybe he hadn't seen this. 

"You always tidy up in the nude? Maybe you like being naked in my presence?" he laughed and brought a hand to my shoulder. 

"No sir, sorry. I thought you were still out. I was going to catch a quick shower before I got changed," I tried to shrug it off, look like things were innocent. 

"Well then," he patted my bottom. "Off with you then," he said it with a wink that I couldn't quite figure the meaning of. "Come out for dinner when you're finished and don't daly around." 

"Yes sir," I set down the bag of laundry and went to the shower. I cleaned myself up and then found he had set clothes for me on the marble counter. It was a small pair of light blue skimpy briefs. I tried to pull them up and they struggled with my ass and held my cock a little too firmly, but the material was very stretchy and soft. There was no tag to read what it was made of. 

I turned to look at myself in the mirror. They certainly did a lot more for my ass than the boxers. I strained them to the limit but they had a lot of give. I laughed to myself thinking about what the girls would think of me in this. A little too gay for my taste. 

I pulled on the small white shorts and blue tank top that matched my briefs. I saw myself when the neck of the tank cleared my eyes. I stood up proudly and smoothed it down over my muscles. It hugged my body and made me look like those guys in the fitness magazines in the coach's office. I turned and flexed for myself. 

Mr. Hamad was waiting for me in the living room area. He told me to set the laundry bag out in the hall and he'd call down to the maid service to take them. We ate steak and talked about the job. He said we would only be in LA for another week before he took me home to his country. 

"Where is that, sir?" I asked when he said its name was Satra. 

"On the Persian Gulf, a kingdom of powerful lions like myself." He said. That brought on more questions, but he wasn't so inclined to talk. 

I covered the dishes when we finished and set them outside the room. It was getting late and I gave a yawn and stretch when I came back inside and walked back to where he sat on the couch. He took the opportunity and reached up to scratch at my abs. I flinched and laughed. 

"So ticklish," he mused to himself. "Let's get ready for bed." 

I took the couch and slept in the clothes he'd laid out for me. He had a small, thin blanket and pillow set out next to it. 

I had the craziest dreams that night. He was in them, going one by one through the girls I'd messed around with and showing them how "a real man" should take them. My dick was hard all night and I woke up with sticky warmth in my briefs. 

As the morning sun laid warm rays across my cheek, I awoke and looked out the window. I stretched as I took in the awakening of Los Angeles. The zig-zag of concrete whirred to life below me. My world had indeed exploded.



Lincoln's Pride Ch. 02



"You're not trying, boy, struggle Lincoln, fight for yourself. You need to learn to defend yourself," He had his lips against my ear, encouraging me and occasionally pulling at my earlobes with his thick, Arab lips. It didn't feel sexual, more like adding humiliation of a man taking another by force. He was playing with me. 

"Against who, sir? The only one attacking me is you," I struggled against his hold as he had me pinned back against his chest. I thought of kicking him but that wasn't ok to do to your boss and he was still my employer. I tried to do the move he showed me, but he was holding me so tightly against his chest. Yet he didn't seem strained in the least. 

*********

Over the next few days, Mr. Hamad went through the list of everything I was responsible for with him. He was a very organized man and seemed to know exactly how he wanted things with his business and exactly what he expected of me. He was impatient and didn't like showing me how to do something again. I quickly learned to follow the patterns of his workday and I surprised him by how quickly I caught on to how he wanted things done. I was finishing work in less time than he expected and I was earning his respect.

Outside of work was the other Mr. Hamad. He was very chill and didn't try to crowd my space too much. I had some times to myself to go swim or hit the hotel gym while he finished up business calls. At times he was playful, especially when he had his nightly drink. He would do things to prove his strength with me. I'd never had any problems keeping up in competitions, but he lived for the element of surprise. 

Sometimes he would pass by me and pull me into a hold. He had shown me a few times some of his wrestling moves. He loved wrestling. The competitive raw nature of using only your body with the intent to fully subdue the opponent. "You don't need balls, goals, hoops, weapons, or anything other than two bodies," he explained. "You have nothing else on which to rely than your strength and cunning." He liked wrestling, and so we wrestled. 

I wasn't usually prepared for it and sometimes he would just fake me out. He would pass me slowly, give me an eye, and then laugh and pinch my nipple or clap my shoulder. One time he was pacing slowly behind me, talking on the phone in Arabic using his little headset. I was sitting at the table in his hotel room working on my laptop, entering his data. 

Suddenly, I felt two hands reach from under my armpits and pull me backwards. The chair flipped over and I was on my feet suddenly. He pinned me back against his chest, his hands pulling my arms painfully back. 

It was a hot afternoon and we had the sliding doors to the suite open to catch the Pacific breeze. We both had on tank tops and shorts. My smooth back was against his hairy, rippled chest. It was unexpectedly soft for chest hair. I don't have much, but for some reason I assumed his would be wiry like pubes. His chest was moderately covered with the thick, dark short hairs. 

He was holding on to me, but didn't seem too disappointed when I couldn't move away. I was certainly trying, but that sweat and cologne smell hit me, the same smell I'd jerked off to with his jock on the bathroom floor. It hit my nose again and distracted me from my struggle. 

"You're not trying, boy, struggle Lincoln, fight for yourself. You need to learn to defend yourself," He had his lips against my ear, encouraging me and occasionally pulling at my earlobes with his thick, Arab lips. It didn't feel sexual, more like humiliation. Like a hazing game some players did with younger teammates or with teammates they saw as lesser. He was playing with me. He was toying with me to find out where I fit on the totem. I wasn't too far down from him and I wanted to prove it. 

"Against who, sir? The only one attacking me is you," I struggled against his hold as he had me pinned back against his chest. Using one hand to rub my tummy gently, again to show that he only really needed one hand to restrain me. I thought of kicking him but that wasn't ok to do to your boss and he was still my employer. I tried to do the move he showed me, but he was holding me so tightly against his chest. Yet he didn't seem strained in the least. 

He pressed into my ass like you would do to a girl you expected to fuck. I swear I felt his bulge harden as he rocked against me a few times and laughed. That laugh is what did it. 

I decided struggling wasn't going to get me out of this. If he wanted to toy with me and make me feel less than, well I could give it back to him. I relaxed back against his chest and went limp in his hold. He stopped rocking against me, but I still felt him hard. I reached a hand behind me and squeezed between his legs at the thick snake that went unexpectedly far to the right in his pants. 

"Does that turn you on... sir?" I used my best gay impression. 

It worked. He released me and spun me around to face him. I kept a straight face, widened my eyes as big as they would go and stared into his eyes with a slight, inquiring smirk. 

He froze and the look in his eyes changed from playfulness to hunger. We stared into each other for a minute before I couldn't hold out any longer. I busted out laughing and backed away from his grip. 

"Was that good, sir? I got away. I win?" I beamed at him and saw his coffee eyes sink for just a minute. 

"That is not how men fight," He seemed disappointed for a minute and then shrugged it off. "If stroking cock is your only survival move, then you really shouldn't get into a fight outside of West Hollywood." 

With that, he went to change and headed off to the gym, giving me another small pile of work to do while he worked out. Sometimes his trainer would walk him back up to the room and they would go into Mr. Hamad's hotel room in the suite to measure his progress or weigh him or something. All I knew was they spent some time while I finished work and then the guy would leave and Mr. Hamad would head to she shower. 

I'd gotten into another routine the last few days, a filthy one. He always left his gym clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor crowned with his sweaty jock on top. I knew I shouldn't do it, but every night when it was my turn in the bathroom, I'd grab it and jerk off to it's scent. 

The second to last day before we were to leave for Satra, his home country, Mr. Hamad came back from his workout with his trainer in tow. He introduced me to him as I was finishing up work. His name was Derek and he was huge, maybe 6'5' with big green eyes and tousled red hair.

This man was solid steel and had a slight California tan. He had on a thin, tight, grey tank top that hugged every contour of his physique and green camouflage workout tights that didn't camouflage his bulge. He gave me a disinterested nod but came to shake my hand. It turned into another competition of strength as he squeezed my hand too hard and I returned his grip. 

For some reason he didn't like me. He towered over me and eyed me like yesterday's trash as he gripped my hand and pumped it harshly. I squeezed his hand back as hard as I could, I'm an alpha too We froze there for a minute staring each other down with a mutual "Nice to meet you, bro." 

I looked past him to Mr. Hamad who gave a smile and a shrug but then pulled Derek away from me with a firm, "That's enough, boy." Mr. Hamad's tone was low and soft, but it made Derek stand up straight and snap his eyes away from me and back towards the voice. 

He backed away under Mr. Hamad's hand on his steel shoulder, but soon returned his eyes to stare me down as if to say, "I was here first." I shrugged it off, I wasn't sure what we were competing for. I turned my eyes back towards the work I had finished. 

The two of them retreated to Mr. Hamad's room and he told me to join them. I followed behind, not sure what was to happen. He told me I had five minutes to get ready for bed and get out. I quickly grabbed my sleep clothes and went into the bathroom, brushing my teeth under the shower head to combine jobs. 

I came back out in loose, jogging shorts. I skipped the t-shirt to show off my own proud muscles to Derek. I puffed up and flexed as I lumbered across the room. Mr. Hamad and Derek were going through a workout plan. Mr. Hamad was lounged back in a captain's chair and Derek was knelt beside him going through a folder. Mr. Hamad ignored me, but Derek looked up and I swear I heard him growl as I passed. 

I gave him an odd look, but headed for the door. 

"You can watch a little TV, but get to bed early, we have a full day tomorrow," Mr. Hamad said to me with a hand raised. Derek flashed annoyed green eyes at me and raised a middle finger towards me against his side where Mr. Hamad couldn't see. 

"Yes sir," I paused and looked at him to show I was listening to his instructions. 

"And Lincoln, sleep well," he added with a very parental tone that elicited another low growl from Derek. That dude looked fucking crazy. 

"Thank you sir, you too," I nodded at Mr. Hamad and gave Derek a little wave. Something about that dude just wasn't right, but I was excited about having a night on the couch with TV and no work. I closed the door behind me, got my blanket, and laid on the couch. 

The TV in the small living room had endless channels. I found an action movie my dad took me to see a few summers ago. Every few minutes in the movie something was blowing up. A boat, a building, a hot dog stand, even the park bench where the hero had been sitting blew up. It was awesome! I didn't watch the ending, I passed out under the warm blanket. 

*********

"Aww fuck please, please put it in me, daddy please," I woke up to hear pleading from the next room. 

"Yeah, stretch that white pussy for this big brown cock. Beg for it in your little pink hole," growled another voice that sounded like Mr. Hamad. 

What the hell was going on. I sat up and scratched my chest. 

"Please daddy, please fuck me," the voice whined in Derek's low growl. It sounded strange, the words didn't match the voice. He was begging like a bitch from behind Mr Hamad's bedroom door. 

"Beg for it, bitch, beg for the cock," Mr. Hamad's voice was deeper than usual, forceful, impatient. 

I got off the couch and crept towards the bedroom door. I saw light coming from under the door but also from the sides. The door was ajar. I remembered closing it to give Mr. Hamad his privacy while I watched the movie. I hadn't heard anything going on, but now the door was cracked an inch or so and all of their noise filtered through. 

I got closer and there was enough room in the crack for me to see the bed. Mr. Hamad was beside it, waving the biggest, darkest cock I'd ever seen. It had to be at least a foot long. It was thick, fat and heavy. It arced up towards his stomach and he would grab it, lower it down and then let it go. It would bounce a few times, so heavy it struggled to raise up. 

Derek was on his hands and knees in front of him with his head tilted up towards the cock. He had his tongue stretched out as far as it would go, but Mr. Hamad was swinging his cock just out of reach. Derek was whimpering and the sound filled me with disgust. 

Derek was naked except for the gold tie Mr. Hamad had worn that day tied in a tight knot around his neck. Mr. Hamad held the long side in his hand, yanking Derek hard by the neck. 

Derek coughed as Mr. Hamad raised it upwards, pulling back on his neck to choke him. It was the strangest scene I ever beheld. Mr. Hamad pulled back hard, choking the man who was gasping for breath with his mouth open wide. He would hold it just enough for the color to drain from Derek's face and then let it slack a bit so Derek's head fell forward as he gasped for air. 

But Derek didn't move, didn't fight for himself. His hands were free but he kept them clasped behind his back. "What a freak," I thought to myself.

In between these attacks on his air, Derek would regain his breath and resume begging to suck Mr. Hamad. What made a man his size go down like that? How could he be into this?

This huge mass of man was whimpering on the floor in front of Mr. Hamad, begging for his cock. Mr. Hamad swiped it across the beggar's lips. Derek lapped excitedly at the tip. 

"You'd better hope that pussy is ready for this meat," Mr. Hamad told him. He leaned down and put his hands on Derek's chin, lifting him up by the head and then spitting into his open mouth. 

"Thank you sir," Derek simpered. It was pretty disgusting. How could this big tower of manhood be on his hands and knees begging for cock. 

"Up," Mr. Hamad ordered and pulled Derek by the leash. He had his hands up on the bed, his chest against a towel someone had laid out against the comforter. 

Derek arched his back and wiggled his ass. "Please fuck me sir, please fuck me." 

"Why would I waste my seed on a dirty whore? You see the boy I have in training." Mr. Hamad said in a low, calm voice. 

I stepped back at that. Was he talking about me? I was no one's whore. I certainly didn't want his seed. Sure his dirty jock got me off, but that was different. I don't know how, but my mind sorted it out as being different. Taking a cock is definitely gay. Sniffing a jock is... questionable. 

"Please sir. I can take you like that little bitch never could. I can take you as deep as you want to go sir. Please fuck me," he was practically crying now. It was pretty gross, but I started to tent in my shorts. It wasn't the scene, it was the way Mr. Hamad exerted himself over the trainer. How did he get a guy that size to whine like a bitch?

"Shut the fuck up. You talking does nothing for me." Mr. Hamad ordered and pushed Derek down against the towel on the bed. "Stick that pink hole out for me, spread your legs." 

And then Mr. Hamad slicked up his cock and started shoving into him. I didn't know how this was supposed to go but it looked painful. Derek let out a cry to indicate this wasn't the normal pace of things. "Please sir, Ow, sir," he started whining. 

"The fuck did I tell you?" Mr. Hamad reached down to the floor and grabbed Derek's sock and shoved it into the whiny mass of muscle's mouth. He slammed into the man and I heard a muffled scream and saw tears stream down his cheek. 

Seeing the jock go into his mouth, that was mine. That was for me. I felt an odd jealousy fall over me. I was leaning against the door frame in the shadows, but that caused me to lean forward a little and the door cracked open more.

Derek turned and saw me, but Mr. Hamad didn't notice. Derek let out a muffled scream to try to let him know I was watching, but Mr. Hamad had the sock fully in his mouth and had tied the other sock around Derek's head and knotted it tightly in the back. It pulled his cheeks in and had wet tear stains on it. He had Derek's arms pinned behind his back, holding him firmly as he continued to forcefuck him. 

Derek made eyes at me to fuck off, turn away. Knowing it bothered him to be watched brought a smile across my face as my cock filled out my shorts to full mast. I reached down and gave it a pet, mindlessly enjoying the scene in front of me. 

"Oh fuck yeah," Mr. Hamad growled as he slammed in and out of the "whore's hole" with pleasure. I was cheering him on in my head. I hoped he was making it hurt. 

"MMMMM!!!" Derek was moaning into the socks and kept eyeing me angrily. I watched as I stole his joy. He wanted this private, between him and Mr. Hamad. I reached into my shorts and stroked my cock, imagining myself conquering this big beefy bitch. He may have been built, but he was definitely not a man. Anyone who could take a cock like that and moan and beg for more was a full on bitch. I knew I would never do that. I would never lower myself like that. 

I cheered on Mr. Hamad in my head as I watched his firm muscular ass push in and out as he destroyed the thick trainer's hole. It looked like it hurt like hell. Derek was squirming and screaming into the sock. There were tears down his reddened cheeks and spit coming out of his mouth. All the time his eyes burned at me. 

Mr. Hamad gave one last slam as his body started to jerk and twist. A deep growl erupted from his chest as he slammed into the man, flinging his sweat down over Derek's muscled back. 

"FUCK YEAH, take my seed. Take it while I breed your little pink hole. I own that pussy," Mr. Hamad growled and it sent me over the edge. I creamed in my shorts, bucking back against the door frame and trying to keep my noise level down. Behind me, the last explosion of the movie sounded on the tv. 

I lurched forward as my cock fired off in my shorts. My knees gave out as my body twisted and I fell back against the wall and slid down to the floor. I landed with a thud. It was the best fucking cum I'd had in a long time. 

I looked back up from the shadows and Mr. Hamad was looking out towards the door, but over my head. I scrambled away from his view and I didn't hear anything. I looked back and saw Mr. Hamad lay down on the bed and kick Derek off. The muscle mass landed on his feet but fell down on his ass. His knees must have been weakened from holding that position too long. 

"Mmmf," I heard him whine again. I saw him untie the sock gag from around his head. His red hair was messy and matched his teary face. 

"Thank you sir," he said rising up from the floor. 

"I thought you left. Why are you still here? I'm finished. You should go... and don't wake the boy," Mr. Hamad said coldly and I heard him flip on the TV. 

I crawled away from them and got up on my feet. I went to the little kitchen area and washed my hands and cleaned the cum off my shorts. 

Derek came out just as I was wiping my hands dry on the towel. He had on his clothes but held his shoes. He didn't look at me or say a word, but he gave a sniffle when he went to open the door. 

"You're awake," Mr. Hamad's voice sounded back from the bedroom doorway. I snapped my eyes to him and swallowed hard. 

"I woke up from some explosion scene in the movie and I got thirsty, needed water," I reached for a glass and filled it under the tap. "Would you like some, sir?" 

"No," he was wearing a small pair of boxers. "Thank you. You're sleeping ok?" 

"Yes sir," I adjusted myself in my jogging shorts. 

"It's cold out here. Would you like an extra blanket?" He offered and moved towards me. His dark furry chest heaved a sigh as he closed in on me. I looked in his eyes in the dim light. He looked at me with a little sadness. I got the feeling he didn't entirely enjoy what he'd just done with Derek. 

"I'm ok, thank you. Derek left?" I asked with a soft tone. 

"That is none of your concern," Mr. Hamad growled and stiffened his back. He didn't like my question. He turned back towards the bedroom and walked away from me. He paused at the door frame. He turned back towards me, putting his hands on the insides of the doorframe and leaned forward, stretching his arm and chest muscles.

He did a few pushups against the door frame. It pushed his hard chest out to regain his pride. His voice softened again, "Let me know if you need anything in the night, Lincoln. If you need the bathroom, come through. I realize you need your own space. You'll have a little more personal space when we get home." 

"Thank you sir. I'm ok sharing your space. I'm used to a lot of people in small quarters. It doesn't bother me, sir... It's comforting to hear you snore like my brothers... good night," I sipped my water and gave a half smile. He nodded to me with a smile and pushed back from the door frame. 

************

The next morning we had breakfast and Mr. Hamad said we should do a workout outside today. "There is a park close to here. I got you new workout clothes. Shower up and they are on the dresser." He told me as I was setting our plates outside our suite door. 




Lincoln's Pride Ch. 02



I went to shower and found a small, tight white t-shirt, a pink jockstrap, and some short white soccer shorts. I pulled them on, feeling a little on display as the shorts hugged my ass. Looking in the mirror, I could make out a hint of the pink straps and pouch showing through the white shorts. 

He had on a brown tank top that matched his skin color and showed off his chest. It was tucked into small white shorts that showed a hint of a black jockstrap. We pulled on matching pairs of new nikes and he tucked the card key to the room into a small pocket in the shorts. I grabbed my backpack, and he gave me an odd look. 

"We aren't going far. What do you need to bring with you?" He asked. 

"I... nothing, sir. Just sunblock, my phone, if something with your business happens I want to be on top of it. It's not heavy," I said and did a few squats as I slipped it on one shoulder. 

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Very well, Lincoln. Take water bottles for us too. But I expect you to keep up with me." 

************

We drove the three blocks down to the park which was odd since we were going to work out. I left my backpack in the trunk, but took the water for us. I noticed it was almost completely guys in the park this morning. I know this is the gay part of LA, but I thought maybe there would be a girl or two or some families. 

Some guys were holding hands and a few were laying together on blankets under the trees. A group was playing basketball and a few were running around with earbuds in their ears. As tight and revealing as our clothes were, I noticed they fit in well in this park. We got a few looks as Mr. Hamad led me over to a tree and showed me the stretches he did. 

"Harder Lincoln, you need to be loose for our run. I don't want you holding me back," he said and pressed down on my back as I was stretching my right calf muscles. 

"I won't be an issue, sir," I said and looked up at him, pushing my blonde hair back off my forehead. But he kept his hand on my back anyway, making sure I was pushing to his satisfaction. 

I caught the eye of two latino guys who were checking us out from behind. I guess this position left my ass on display. He raised a short nod to me with a smile and his tongue took a quick tap at his lip. I looked up at Mr. Hamad again, this time with a blush. He had noticed the guys. He looked slightly amused at my modesty. 

"It's how things are here, Lincoln. Time to grow up." With that, we were off. we ran down through the park and then up to Santa Monica Blvd. We got stuck by the light, but then made our way up the steep hill of San Vicente. I was keeping up with him and only fell behind because he kept seeming like he was going to dart off on some side street. This was his route, I fell behind and followed inches behind him so he would know I was there and not holding him back. 

We went down Sunset, or up, it seemed like all we were doing was climbing. My legs weren't used to this and I was glad every time we got stuck at a No Walk sign. But he just jogged in place and looked back at me to indicate I should do the same. 

"Don't lose your heart rate, keep going," he said sounding a little out of breath himself. Down Sunset we crossed into Beverly Hills and Mr. Hamad followed the sidewalk as it splintered off into a side street. I rounded the corner behind him and my heart sank. It went almost vertical. 

I was dripping sweat and the sun was pounding overhead. I'd put on sunblock and a little was dripping down into my left eye. It was stinging and got worse when I wiped at it with my sweaty hand. But I followed. I wasn't going to be the one to end this and prove him right. 

My legs were burning as we loped up the hill. He was breathing heavy too, looking at me with coffee colored eyes that seemed to say, "Damnit, give up!" I wasn't going to do it. I forced a smile and jogged up to his side, pushing past my screaming muscles. I wanted to vomit and if I'd slowed down, I probably would have. 

We made it to the top of the hill and the street plateaued and jogged to the right. We paused there and slowed to a walk as he tried to hide his gasps for air. 

"This.... this is what I... wanted.... you... to see..." Mr. Hamad held his chest trying to look leisurely. He spread a hand behind me and I turned to see the view of the LA basin. It was really something spectacular. We kept walking down the street and soon it opened up to another long view, this time towards downtown. 

"Pretty awesome," I said, between deep breaths. "Definitely worth it," I lied. I wanted to lay down and die here. My body was drenched, my lungs felt fire, and my stomach twisted like I'd eaten leftover sushi from a dumpster. No I've never done that, but it's the worst thing I could picture. 

We kept walking, very slowly. We were both experienced enough athletes to know that sitting down would likely lead to throwing up. The phrase "walk it off" really does have some tread on it. We got to the end of it where the street met a gate leading up to a huge stone mansion. 

We headed back to the park. We did catch our breath and ran the last mile or so back. The heat was getting bad now and the tourists were out in full force as we made our way through Beverly Hills. We stopped at a juice bar and Mr. Hamad got us green smoothies as we headed back towards our car. We were sopping wet and my shirt was now transparent against my pale skin. It didn't show much skin, just the contour of my muscles and the pink of my hardened nipples. The shorts though, they pretty much displayed the pink jock. I noticed it when we got back to the park and the guys were now looking down there instead of my face. 

I turned to Mr. Hamad who looked a little guilty. He'd planned this little humiliation. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction though. I puffed out my chest and walked on. I was determined to meet his every challenge. 

When we got into the thick of the park gays, I told Mr. Hamad we should stretch out for recovery. I did my best to keep my ass on display as I exaggerated some of his stretches and kept asking him, "Is this ok, Mr. Hamad? Is this how we do it? My ass feels funny." I laughed to myself and noticed we were drawing a small crowd. They were damn shameless here. 

"That's enough Lincoln," he said without humor and moved behind me. 

"That's what you wanted, right sir? You wanted to show me off?" I looked behind me and up to meet his serious eyes. 

"I said that's enough, let's go," he said coldly and walked off towards the car. He paused by the tree to let me catch up. 

"Damn it, go away," he waved a hand next to his ear and swatted at something, "I hate bees." 

I froze as I saw the bee angrily buzz away from him and it headed right towards me. I thought if I froze it would leave me alone, but a split second later I felt a piercing sting on my arm. 

"Ahhhh!" I let out a scream and the crowd that was starting to disperse turned and looked at us. 

"It's just a bee, Lincoln, don't be such a baby," Mr. Hamad said, annoyed and angry with me. 

"I..." I felt my heart pounding in my ear now and my throat was starting to swell. I gasped for air and felt lumps filling out and closing off my airway. 

"Backpack... pen... allergy... die," I croaked out and he suddenly looked at me seriously. 

He started towards me, but then my words registered with him. "Reaction! He's having a reaction. Epinephrine. The backpack? Trunk! Watch him, please! Someone help while I get it." He took off towards the car, jumping over picnics and swearing loudly. "Fuck Fuck Fuck! Move Queer! Emergency!" 

I sank down against the tree, gasping for air and a thin blonde man came towards me. 

"Lay back," he said with authority. He laid my head on the grass and tore off my t-shirt. He tilted my head back and took hold of one wrist, holding it up to check my pulse. 

"Relax, your boyfriend is going for your allergy pen, just relax," he stroked my chest, pushing against my abs to help me get some air. 

And then he was back, Mr. Hamad threw my backpack down and dug into it tossing all of my things around on the grass. He took out the pen and sat next to me against the tree and then pulled me into a sitting position in his lap. He pushed at my shorts and the thin blonde man helped slide them off of me. I had a sudden worry that everyone was seeing me in the pink jockstrap. 

Mr. Hamad raised my left leg, exposing my smooth pink asshole to the growing crowd. He put the pen to his lips and tore off the cap to expose the needle. He jabbed it into the inside of my thigh and depressed the plunger to give me the medicine. I laid back against his chest as he finished. I looked over at him as he stared down at my thigh, his face full of worry. 

I laid my head against his strong shoulder. His left hand was wrapped around me and held my abs as his right hand worked the needle. He finished and slowly slid it out. He started to set it down, but the blonde man shook his head. 

"There's a needle disposal near the bathrooms, I'll take it there." He stood up and looked down at me, "You'll be ok sweetie." 

"Thank you," I gasped, feeling my throat start to open a little. 

Mr. Hamad stroked my stomach with his left hand and pulled my legs closed with his right. He folded my knees up into my chest and secured them with his arms. He protected my modesty, to the disappointment of the onlookers. 

"Breathe with me, sweet boy," his deep whisper into my ear as his lips brushed back and forth over my earlobe. He turned my face up to look at his. He inhaled slow and deep, then exhaled blowing into my lips. We did this a few times until my head stopped throbbing so much. 

"Your color is returning," a small grin crept across his lips. He gave my nose a kiss. 

We laid there together and Mr. Hamad waved the crowd away. Some lingered and others slunk off but tried to watch us discreetly. I guess a teen muscle stud in a pink jockstrap was something of a gift to these guys. I smiled to myself at that. We must have looked pretty funny. Two strong guys, holding each other under a tree. I noticed the contrast of our skin. He was a little older, rougher, dark, hairy. I was smooth, pale, a whiter shade of white. There was something about the way his arms slid around me though, protectively, not how he'd touched Derek. But i wasn't his "whore" either. 

"You lied to me," he whispered firmly. 

"I'm sorry sir. I really wanted this job. I promise it won't happen again," I said softly. 

"You can't make promises for bees, idiot. You lied and it almost cost you your life. You are a very stupid child for going off without that pen in your pocket. You try to prove you can be as much of a man as I am, but you're still just a child, Lincoln." He stung me worse than the bee. 

"I'm sorry, sir. Please don't fire me. I'm ok now, sir. See? I can stand," I tried to stand up, but instantly felt light headed. I started to stumble towards where the man had folded my shorts. I reached for them and stumbled forward. Mr. Hamad caught me before I faceplanted in the grass. 

"Just a child," he said again and put an arm behind my knees, sweeping me off my feet like a groom carries his bride across the threshold. I held my shorts and he carried me over to his car. 

*********

He raced to the clinic and parked in a red zone right near the entrance. He came around and pulled me out, lifting me from the seat. 

"Please let me walk," I begged and he reluctantly set me on my feet. I'm not the lightest guy. I was in awe of how easily he swept me up. I'm also about an inch taller than he is and I'm not finished growing. But I still felt small standing next to him. Size isn't always about measurement. 

"Wait Lincoln, put the shorts on," he held up the white shorts and I looked down to recall that all I had on was a pink jockstrap and new, white nikes. 

"Oh," I blushed. He squatted down to help me and I stepped into the shorts, now torn and dirty. He pulled them up and cupped my ass in a two-handed squeeze after he'd pulled the waistband over it. I was getting used to his touch, his uninvited explorations. It added a level of brotherhood I'd had playing baseball. My teammates never hesitated to smack a butt or rub a back or squeeze wherever. It just felt natural. 

I took a step forward and my legs felt weak again so he put an arm around my waist and had me lean into his side for support. His sweat was starting to dry up and it left a super potent smell on him. My mind flashed to the sweaty jock he was preparing for me in his shorts right now. My cock started to fill out in my jock as I breathed him. I would miss that most if he fired me. 

We went inside and, of course, he immediately demanded service. "He's had a bad allergic reaction. He needs immediate care!" He yelled to an empty waiting room. 

A dark haired, Indian man who looked to be about Mr. Hamad's age popped his head around a corner yelling back with an annoyed tone, "Have a seat!... oh," he stepped out and looked us up and down with a smile. "Yes, well let's get him checked out." He reached for me, but Mr. Hamad didn't let me go from his side. 

"Sir, you'll have to wait out here and fill out some forms. I'll get him set up for the doctor. I promise I'll take good care of your... boyfriend?" The nurse said. 

"No, no sir, he's not my boyfriend, he's my," I croaked out with a dry voice and Mr. Hamad interrupted me. 

"Father, he's 16. I'm his guardian," Mr. Hamad lied without a hint of stress in his voice. "I'll go back with him. You can bring me whatever form to fill out back there." 

The nurse shrugged and led us back to a small exam room. He patted the paper-lined leather exam table and I hopped up with help from Mr. Hamad. The nurse went to get the forms and my body gave a deep shiver as the cool air conditioning hit my sweaty skin. 

"I'd give you my tank top, but it's pretty soaked as well," Mr. Hamad started to look around for a blanket or something to cover me with. 

"What seems to be the problem?" A voice sounded as the door opened and an older Arab guy walked in. He eyed us both, sweaty and dirty. A half-naked muscled blonde teen on his exam table with the band of his pink jock peeking out above the band of the torn and tiny shorts. A mid-20's furry, muscled arab man looking worried about his boy. I'm sure the story-line in his head was quite exciting. He smiled at us. 

"Some sexual mishap?" he guessed with a chuckle. 

"No!," Mr. Hamad and I exclaimed in unison. 

"Relax, I get those all the time in this neighborhood, nothing to be ashamed about. Square peg, round hole, simple enough, just get the shorts off and I'll have a look," The doctor went for rubber gloves. 

"My son had a severe allergic reaction and I injected him with epinephrine. He needs to be checked out. His hole was not involved," Mr. Hamad said flatly. 

He turned and said something in a foreign language and Mr. Hamad answered back in the same sounding language. They talked back and forth and the doctor came towards me and lifted my leg. He took an alcohol swab and rubbed around where Mr. Hamad had injected me and was pointing something out on my thigh and speaking in that language. I was getting annoyed and feeling like a dog at the vet. 

"I'm feeling better," I interrupted as the doctor held up one of my arms and was pointing out something to Mr. Hamad about my right armpit. 

They stopped and turned to me, remembering I was there. 

"You are lucky to be alive," the doctor admonished. "You should always inform the people around you if you have a medical need, especially to your guardian." 

I turned and looked at Mr. Hamad, "I'm sorry sir. Am I going to be ok?" 

"For now, you will feel pretty weak and out of it until this works out of your system in the next few hours. I'm prescribing something to help, a new epipen and some pills to help you sleep on the long flight you have tomorrow," the doctor said to me and then went back to talking with Mr. Hamad in the language I guessed must be Arabic. 

Mr. Hamad came to sit next to me on the exam table as the doctor put his stethoscope to different parts of me and explored me like Mr. Hamad had done in my interview. 

Mr. Hamad rubbed my back and I was grateful for his warm touch. He and the doctor continued on as though they were old friends. 

And then finally it hit me, "Wait, so I get to go with you? I'm not fired, sir?" I said with surprise. 

"Again he interrupts the men trying to help him," the doctor said with an annoyed tone as his rough hands felt my pecs, squeezing them. 

"He has much to learn about respect... and obedience," Mr. Hamad said, "But I think he can be trained." 

I closed my mouth and lowered my head as Mr. Hamad rubbed my back muscles. They were sore and tense from the medicine in me. I laid back into his grip and he took my shoulders, roughly massaging them. I felt a chill over me and my dick stirred in my shorts. The two men continued on in Arabic and I went back to being the puppy in the vet's office being soothed and pet by his owner. 

The doctor leaned in to my face and lifted my eyelids as I was getting lost in the rough massage. He checked out my eyes and gave me a soft smile. "Looks like you will survive this time," he said. He called in the nurse and told him what drugs we would need. The nurse never did bring those forms for Mr. Hamad to fill out. 

He returned a few minutes later and handed a bag to the doctor who looked in there and threw in some samples of things from his cabinet. He handed them to Mr. Hamad who handed back a small wad of cash. 

The doctor put a pill on my tongue and gave me a glass of water to swallow it. "This will help you heal." 

We both thanked him and he gave me a squeeze on the shoulder. He shook hands with Mr. Hamad and then Mr. Hamad pushed me to my feet and steadied me on one arm as he took the bag in the other. 

We got back to the hotel suite and he filled the giant bathroom tub with hot water and a mix of things that made it fill with bubbles and pop and fizz. He pushed off my clothes and helped me to get in. I laid back, looking up at him and said, "Thank you, sir." 

I closed my eyes and started sinking down into the water feeling exhausted. The pill was knocking me out as it fought against the other drug in my system. I slipped under the water and then felt Mr. Hamad pull me back up to sitting position. 

"Damnit Lincoln, are you determined to die today?" he laughed. He pulled me up and sat my bare ass on the ledge of the tub, leaning me against the cold tile wall. My legs opened and my soft cock sat against my heavy balls on the cold marble ledge of the tub. 

"Let me help you," he said and stood and stripped off his tank top. In my stupor, I watched him, maybe a little too hungrily. 

When he pushed off his shorts, I saw the jock he had on. "That one's my favorite," I heard the words float out of my mouth and then I raised both hands and clapped them over my mouth. Shit. I was busted. 

"I know," he said matter of factly. He gave me a laugh and then pushed it to the ground, freeing that big brown monster he kept down there. It was soft but swung loose and flopped out over his heavy, hairy low-hangers. Those nuts were huge. He flicked the jock towards the counter. He stepped into the bathtub and laid back where I had been. He patted his chest and I sank into the water again. 

He pulled me into him so my back was against his chest. We were even now in the water and his head was right behind mine. He pushed me to the side a bit so I could lay my head back against his shoulder. I turned to inhale him. He hadn't washed his neck yet and it was a stronger scent than the expensive bath stuff he had in here. 

In my drugged bravado I stuck my tongue out and touched it to his neck to taste his salty man juice. He laughed and pushed me away playfully. 




Lincoln's Pride Ch. 02



"Settle down. I just need to clean you and get you to bed. You will be back to normal tomorrow and probably not remember any of this," he said, not sounding sexed up in the least. 

"Are you going to fuck me?" I asked and looked back to stare into his eyes. 

"No. I most certainly am not. This is not acceptable talk Lincoln," He turned me back around and pulled me back against his chest again. His hands took the small washcloth from the ledge and rubbed the cake of soap inside it. 

"You don't want me like you wanted Derek? Then why did you tell him you already had another boy?" I inquired knowing I was pushing way beyond acceptable limits today. 

"I most definitely do not want you like I did Derek. He is a hungry and filthy toy. Someday I will take you, but it won't be because you are drugged or desperate to save your job. I wouldn't take advantage of someone in a helpless state. That's called rape. When I take you, it will be because you want it and beg me for it." He washed me with the soapy cloth that felt soft on my skin and made my body tingle with goosebumps. My cock was rock hard under the bubbles but he didn't touch it. 

"I'm not gay though," I said to remind myself. 

"No, of course not," he chuckled in his deep, commanding voice and brought the washcloth down to soap up my ass. I squirmed on it and his finger, from behind the rag poked gently at my hole. 

"No sir, not gay," I mumbled and fell asleep in his arms. 

++++



Lincoln's Pride Ch. 03



"No, Lincoln, you can't come with me. I need you here today," Mr. Hamad said and waved to my work area in his office. "Caleb is late, but that's normal. You just need to show him some of what you do and make sure he doesn't buy anything. Just babysit him until his real business manager comes back tomorrow. I have some last minute meetings before our flight tonight." 

He was moving around his desk, deciding which files he would take with him. I adjusted my grey tie by the window and looked out over the city knowing it might be the last time I saw Los Angeles for a long while. I wish I had made time to see my family before we left, but I had video signed with my dad and he understood. I had told him all about the bee incident and using the epipen and still feeling sore. He said I should be grateful to be alive and grateful to Mr. Hamad for not firing me. 

"Lincoln? Are you listening?" I heard his voice right behind me as I was leaned against the window. I felt his warm breath on my neck and my skin tingled where the air had brushed. "Lincoln, little one, are you having an attack still from the bee sting?" 

"Sorry sir, I just got lost in the view," I admitted with a bit too much sadness in my tone. I started to turn to his voice. He was still uncomfortably close behind me and I turned directly into him. He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder and then pushed me back to look out at the window as he pressed in behind me. His brawny, warm chest felt good on my still sore back muscles. 

"Focus, little one. I know you will miss your world here, but we will return when possible," He put strong hands on either of my shoulders and gave them a squeeze like the massage he gave me in the doctor's office. I relaxed under his touch and woodsy cologne. I breathed him into me as he roughly worked my sore muscles. 

I was still a bit groggy from the medication working its way out of my system. He rubbed me with concern. He leaned over me and his cheek brushed against mine as he asked, "Does that feel better? Still sore, little warrior?" 

I nodded against his bristled cheek and admitted, "A bit, sir... but that feels better." 

I closed my eyes for a second and then felt him draw me back against him for a tight hug. His hands rubbed over my abs and I tightened them at his touch, arching my back to show them off to him. His beard prickled my smooth cheeks as he put his chin over my shoulder again, his face next to mine so we could look out over the city together. 

He leaned me forward then, pressing his thumbs into my lower back to continue the massage. My ass pushed back against him as my face touched the glass. His package pressed in between my cheeks separated only by thin dress pants and the thin, sheer black briefs I'd watched him stuff his snake into this morning when he came out of the shower. 

I felt his bulge press into me, thick but soft. My hole twitched and my cheeks clenched it in a hug that betrayed my secret interest in him. I didn't want him like that. I knew I couldn't, but my body ignored my protests. 

My face turned back to him, pressing my cheek against the cold window as my eyes turned to look at him. He looked down at me with intent as his hands massaged my back, my ass pushed hard against him. His look, concerned but not sexual. He was intent on making me feel better and I suddenly realized how dirty I was being, pushing up against him. I turned red and he caught me, his expression relaxed into a forgiving smile.

"It's ok, baby blue eyes," he assured, "You're still coming down from the medicine." He understood. I sighed relief.

"It's the first time you are away from your family and the only culture you've ever known. I get that, little one, but I'll be your family until you can see them again. I will take care of you and help you adjust. I will be your father and help you grow into the man you are to become," Mr. Hamad had something in his voice with that last part. It wasn't his normal, self-assured imperative tone. He pulled me up away from the window and back into a hug. He started to rub his beard against my cheek in soft, upward lifts. 

"I know i'll be ok sir," I relaxed my back against his chest and he held me up with ease. "I will make you proud and learn everything you can teach me," I breathed him in and closed my eyes. 

My skin felt a wave of goosebumps in his warm, protective arms. From the outside, we must have looked like two buff gay queers readying for their honeymoon in Queeristan. But from the inside... deep inside his protective muscled hold... it made sense. Somewhere between friendship and family, he held me and it felt primeval, this was how it was supposed to be, since time began. He held me until the anxiety passed and then he kept on just because it fit. We said nothing to each other, it would have ruined it. 

"I'm late for group hug? Damnit! Traffic was a bitch," a sing-song gay voice shattered our silence and I heard an awful scraping as Mr. Hamad clenched his teeth. Caleb caused him pain, confusion, anxiety. I wanted to hurt Caleb. I had become oddly protective over my mentor, my protector. 

"Yes, that's why you leave early," Mr. Hamad's tone was angry, annoyed by the intrusion. He tore away from me after pausing to kiss my cheek. The simple gesture let me know I wasn't painful, not confusing, nor did I bring him anxiety. I wasn't the cause of his angry tone. I was simple, pleasant, punctual. I win. 

With that, Mr. Hamad grabbed his case and headed out past Caleb. The two exchanged an awkward kiss with sloppy tongues. Well... it was awkward for me and there seemed to be an air of obligation to it. I wasn't used to seeing guys do that, but Mr. Hamad was foreign and seemed to have odd relationships with the blonde boys in his life. I mean ours wasn't exactly the standard boss/intern... but it worked. 

Caleb had worn a suit today and he actually didn't look too bad. His blonde hair was gelled up nicely, and floated higher as he gave a loud yawn of perfectly white teeth. 

I stayed by the window in the last bits of warmth as Mr. Hamad's aura escaped the room. My heart sank at his absence. He hadn't left me with another person since we'd been together. He would be back. I smoothed my suit and tucked my shirt back into my pants, willing my hard cock back before I turned around. I just needed to babysit this guy and keep him happy. 

"Coffee, intern!" Caleb sang to me as he floated in and tossed a leather work case on the desk. A few fashion magazines tumbled out along with a gold cased iPad. I moved to pack them back nicely and saw the bag had not much else inside it save for a pack of gum. 

I went for the phone and asked the secretary to have coffee sent up. Caleb sat in Mr. Hamad's oversized leather chair as though it were a familiar spot. He laid back and swiveled around to look out the window. I saw his black leather shoes pop up on the back table. 

I let him be and went back to last minute data entry since he seemed ok with quiet. The coffee arrived in fancy paper cups and I wondered if he had fallen asleep. I debated disturbing him as it could mean I could get some work done while still following Mr. Hamad's imperative. 

"Well, babysitter? Coffee?" an impatient voice sounded from behind the big chair. 

"Oh yes of course, Mr..." I didn't know what to call him. 

"Caleb, just...Caleb. Bring it over. You're my personal slave for today. I'm assuming you've already been informed of that," He sounded annoyed and fumbled to exert control through his tone. 

I went to him and walked around the chair to see him playing on his phone. The sunglasses were off and his blue eyes surveyed me appraisingly. 

"Do you need anything else, sir?" I said, placing the coffee in his outstretched hand. 

"Caleb, call me Caleb. And no. Just need to wake up," he said lazily and took a sip at the cup. 

"Ok, well take your time. I am working on things over here. I can show you whenever you're ready," I said and backed away slowly. I really didn't get his relationship with Mr. Hamad, especially after seeing the caliber of muscle man who begged to be with him. This guy was ok looking, thin, toned and athletic but in a gay way like one of those little russian swimmer dudes you see in the olympics. Not one of the good ones either. I guessed Mr. Hamad was into that. 

**** 

He slept for a solid hour or more until Mr. Hamad's phone rang on his desk. I cursed myself for not telling the secretary to not disturb us. I had just finished the last of the work I needed to do though, so I quickly jumped to answer it. 

It was Mr. Hamad checking in. He laughed when I said Caleb was asleep and we immediately heard Caleb yell, "Am not!" from behind me. Caleb demanded the phone and I passed it to him and went to packing my computer and filed the papers I had completed. 

"Yes, daddy, he already showed me what I need to do," I heard Caleb say in a baby talk voice. "Daddy?" I thought to myself. I shuddered and shook my head. I had gotten somewhat desensitized to the gay world this past week being in West Hollywood, but it still creeped me out hearing a grown man call his... whatever it was, things like that. It wasn't like that between me and Mr. Hamad, no, not at all. I was determined that it wouldn't be that way.

I was glad Mr. Hamad didn't try to come on to me like that. I needed this internship or whatever it is. We weren't like that at all, I reassured myself. Caleb turned to look at me as he was finishing up on the phone, "Yes daddy, he is taking good care of your -ittle -aby cub," his whiny little boy voice made me cringe inside, but I raised my eyebrows and nodded to be agreeable. 

I looked at the clock, it was just past noon. Mr. Hamad had promised to be back by 5 since our flight was that evening. We'd checked out of the hotel and everything was packed in the trunk of his rental car. I sighed to myself. 

Caleb and I decided to go for lunch and that's when things went from bad to worse. Caleb led me down Santa Monica Boulevard to this string of gay places. He kept trying to hold my hand as we walked but I pulled it away insistently. I was not his to hold. I wanted that clear to every passerby. 

"You know if I really hit the weights, I could be your twin, or maybe older brother, but not by much. I bet you have a tight little body under that suit," Caleb said with a laugh after ordering us sandwiches at a small place filled with business guys on their lunchbreak. The place was narrow but long, and the tables were close together. 

This pair of older guys, maybe 30's, in suits were seated next to us and the taller one kept looking over at me. He was a thick muscular man with an expensive black suit. He had a thick, black, neatly trimmed beard, thick brown lips and round brown eyes. He looked Arab, like he could be Mr. Hamad's cousin. I got distracted by the way he eyed me like he knew me from somewhere. 

"Oh um, yeah totally bro," I said to Caleb dismissively and looked back at the man staring me down. He took a sip of his coffee and raised a thick, dark eyebrow at me and gave a nod. I couldn't take my eyes off him as though his stare simply wouldn't allow it. He was superior and held me in his gaze. 

I gave a half smile not wanting to offend him. Then he nodded his head away from our tables in two quick movements with a slight smile. I followed his eyes and saw a sign for the restroom. I shook my head no and turned to see that Caleb had caught on to the situation. 

"You're staring at my slave. Do you require his services? He is trained quite well and responds to pain." Caleb interjected with a deadly serious look and the Arab guy turned to him with an incredulous smile. 

"Seriously?" his deep voice crept out between his curled up brown lips. 

"No!" I said, "He's... No sir, he's just messing with you really. I'm straight... sir..." 

"Silence sluthole!" Caleb commanded, still holding a straight face. "Just for that I insist you go extra rough on that ass. He's taken five men already this morning, but I guess he's yet to be broken." 

"Woah, I just thought he was a cute kid. Thanks anyway, man," the guy said looking at me with controlled disgust. His lunch partner, a thin white guy in a nice suit shot me the same look. 

"He's joking, really... He thinks this is funny... uh but thanks... but... um, no thanks," I held up my hands and must have been bright red. Caleb held up his phone and snapped a picture of my expression before busting out in laughs. He was really enjoying this and I hated him more. 

The man adjusted his tie and then reached down to adjust something else. He gave me a smile, the disgust in his eyes had turned to amused adoration. "Don't let him get to you, cutie. You get used to that stuff around here," he said and I blushed some more. He reached across the table and stroked the back of my hand with a strong brown finger. I felt the warmth I normally got from Mr. Hamad. I bit my lip and looked up at him. I didn't pull away. 

"It's ok... sir," I don't know why I added sir. Something about the man, the expensive suit, the commanding but soft way of speaking, the scent of cologne that wafted invitingly across the table, reminded me of Mr. Hamad's presence. He kept his eyes on me as I ate my sandwich.

"You're not from around here, eh?" the Arab man said to me a few minutes later. Caleb raised an eyebrow while chewing on a pickle, loving the continued advances the man made towards me. 

"Up north sir," I said, shoving a chip into my mouth. 

"He's mountain people. First week in the big city," Caleb interrupted. "Tonight we're shipping him off to the Middle East, Satra to be exact, so he better get used to lions like you... sir." 

"Satra?" the man said and looked at me as though he expected this to be another joke. 

I nodded, "Yes sir, I am interning with Mr. Hamad, Samir Hamad of the Hamad family." I volunteered too much information. 

"My cousin!," he exclaimed. I perked up, feeling instant comfort with him. 

"I had heard he was getting a new cub. I'm Nabil! Come! Let me look at you!" He stood and I followed his moves. His height eclipsed me by a few inches. I was looking up a little as he squeezed my biceps, my pecs, patted my abs. He felt strangely free to explore me as though I were the new car his cousin had purchased. 

"Yes, very nice. too nice for Samir!" he joked, "I heard his former cub was lazy, soft, weak. You are very fit, any lion would be proud to call you his." 

"I am not his former cub! And Lincoln is just an intern!" Caleb was red and nearly yelling from behind Nabil.

"I apologize," Nabil said without taking his eyes or hands off of me, "But he does look more like a replacement." 

"Let's go Lincoln, I'm done here," Caleb poured venom over his words. 

"Oh," Nabil turned to eye him for a split second and then decided he wasn't interesting. He turned back to me and the smile returned to his eyes. He issued half-hearted apologies to Caleb, "Sorry, you are very... um nice as well." 

"I said, 'let's go!' Lincoln! Now! Come, Intern!" Caleb stormed towards the door. I scrambled past Nabil but realized we hadn't paid the check. 

"Oh the check," I exclaimed and stopped, turning to the table to pull out my wallet. 

"No no, this is on me. I have caused you trouble," Nabil said and reached for his wallet. He pulled a business card and held it towards me. "Tell Samir I say hello and wish his family the best. Tell him I very much approve of his new boy and look forward to seeing you back in the homeland myself." 

"Thank you sir," I said and reached for his business card, but he pushed past me and slipped it into the back pocket of my suit pants and then squeezed the cheek a little too hard as I let out an "Ahhhh" as his ear pressed close to my lips. 

I straightened up as the now familiar chill of a powerful Arab man handling me spread through me. "Goodbye, sir," I said and he released me with a soft kiss to the cheek. He swatted my ass as I walked quickly to catch up with Caleb. 

******

"You were just SO totally into him, weren't you?" Caleb asked as I stepped out of the cafe. He'd waited for me, sulking against a metal streetlight pole with a rainbow banner. 

"No," I said with a snort, "No way dude. I'm not into guys. He's just Mr. Hamad's family and all. I wanted to make a good impression. Why do you queers think every dude is just three sips away from sucking cock?," I spat, suddenly angry with him and exhausted by his constant tantrums. 

I'd wheeled around, met angry stares, and suddenly realized my comments were not appreciated by the mostly gay passers-by. 

"Of course you're not into guys like me, but them... they're different, right? You get that. I saw how you react to their touch," Caleb prodded. 

"What does that mean?" I laughed and looked away from him as a light blush settled in across my cheeks. He started to walk on and I followed him quietly hoping his short attention span would turn quickly to something else. 

"You know what I mean, Lincoln," he said putting a hand on my arm as we got near the entrance of Mr. Hamad's building. He loved squeezing my biceps and I usually encouraged it with a flex when he did it. Who doesn't enjoy a little adoration. 

"They're not like us. It's why I fell for Samir in the first place. They just have this power over guys like us. Gay or straight, it doesn't make much of a difference. Blonde boys and dark men, it's primal. At some point in history or evolution we must have lived under their power. Genetically our bodies never got over it. They growl and we bow," he looked serious for once. 

Caleb squeezed my bicep and added, "It's not about gay or straight. It's like we're not even from the same planet as them. They feel it too, this need to protect and dominate us. They need us like we need them." 

"I don't know what you're talking about. Mr. Hamad is my boss, like a big brother who is teaching me how to be a shark like he is. That's all it is bro. Sorry to pop your little jerk off fantasy. It's just not going to go that way for me. I'm not like... you," I said as my mind turned his words over. 

"Keep telling yourself that, cowboy. It might sound a little funny in your head though when you find yourself bent over his desk getting rid like a bronco," Caleb couldn't let it go without the last word. I decided to give it to him. I still had a babysitting job to complete. 

We got back up to the office without incident and my body heaved a sigh of relief as I closed the door behind Caleb. 

"So what do we do with three hours to kill before Samir comes back? You finished everything, right?" Caleb asked as he stretched out on the couch. 

"Yeah, I guess. I was going to show you how to enter data and file things to at least pretend like you earn some of your salary," I started. 

"Nope, not interested, but I could help you out with something you will definitely want to learn to control," Caleb looked at me with a smile. 

"Uh, like what?" I said with hesitation, unlikely to entertain whatever he was going to propose. 

"Have you been on an airplane before?" He asked but didn't wait for an answer, "Of course you haven't. And you ESPECIALLY haven't been on the kind the Hamad family flies. It's not normal seats. You'll be in a little pod with two seats that slide out into short beds. 13 hours, Linc. 13 hours of breathing his air, his power, sweat, cologne. I know what it does to me and I bet it does the same for you, right?" 

"He smells like a dude, I guess. I don't go around sniffing people to get off, man," I tried to sound convincing. He was talking about my secret world with Mr. Hamad as though he were a part of it. A twinge of anger rose in me. 

Caleb just rolled his eyes. "You'll want to sleep and maybe you will, for a little bit. But even then you'll be pressed together in the little pod. And god help you if he's behind you. He'll put you by the window, give you a line about seeing the view. He'll be behind you, have you helpless and trapped in his space. I doubt he'll give you alcohol because you're only 18 and he is genuinely concerned about your health and growth. But he'll give you something, a pill." 




Lincoln's Pride Ch. 03



I thought back to the pill the doctor had given us yesterday saying it would help me sleep on the flight. 

"It will relax you, lower your guard. He needs a toy to entertain him on the long flight. Sometimes he needs more than one. We rarely went back and forth without him finding some little blonde passenger to fuck in the bathroom a few times he banged the pilot in the cockpit," Caleb was right beside me now, leaning against the desk while I pretended to organize papers. He leaned into me like he was telling a secret, whispering the filthy details close to my ear. 

"It's not his fault, Lincoln. He has needs. So do I," Caleb whispered to me, "He would have been loyal. He would have kept it all for me, it's my fault he turned out this way. I never wanted to settle down with just one lion, be sold for life to one cock no matter how magnificent it is. And yeah, Lincoln, you've seen it. You know it's one for the records." 

"I don't look at him that way," I interjected and pushed my tenting cock under the desktop. 

"Right. At first he was hurt, tried to reclaim me, tried to please me. But then I caught him getting revenge with one of my friends. I joined them. He took turns sliding into both of us and we all loved it. Soon I'd set him up with all kinds of guys. I loved the look when they saw what he was packing, what he planned to pack inside them. A few backed out or just wanted to suck him, but most adjusted, begged for it. I knew he really just wanted me, and that made it hotter. I could control the monster and send it on my own missions." Caleb was rubbing a hand over my pecs now and squeezing them. 

"After all that, he's still loyal to me. He never knew how to stop loving someone. I know he doesn't want me anymore, he fucks me out of obligation... but Samir still needs to know I am taken care of so he set me up with this fake job. I need him to let me go... And that's why I found tight-bodied little you," Caleb stopped and put my earlobe between his teeth. His right hand rubbed down to my abs. 

I was rock hard, but I pushed away at his words. "No, I applied for this job. I worked hard for it! It's my future, my dream. It's not like that with me and Mr. Hamad, I'm straight." 

He grabbed my arm and I allowed him to pull me back. "Ok ok, damn boy," he smiled, pushed me into the chair. 

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked with a tone of angry confusion. I checked the clock to see I still had to be around him for a few more hours. 

"Because you are about to be trapped in a small pod with him for 13 hours and the scene I walked in on this morning was halfway to fucking. You think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him that whole time? You're rock hard right now just talking to me about it," Caleb reached down towards my cock and I slid back. 

"You want to be hard the whole time? Embarrass yourself in front of him? You know whatever pill he gives you to sleep is going to make you hump him in your sleep. It's just a side effect," he said and leaned back against the desk. He had a mini bulge of his own going on. After only being around Mr. Hamad for awhile, it was hard to be impressed with anyone. 

"I think I'll be ok... I'll just jack off in the bathroom before we leave," I said, not believing I was actually discussing this with him. 

"That will only prime the pump," he laughed. "Let me suck it for you, drain your balls. I can empty the reservoir like no girl you've ever had." 

"Uh no, bro. I'm not like that. I'm sure it would shrink when you touched it. I don't even think it works like that," I protested though my cock wasn't going down. 

"You'd be surprised what skills I have. Just close your eyes, picture a girl, picture Samir if that works better, though he's never sucked a cock in his life," Caleb laughed. That little piece of information made my cock thump. Of course he'd never do that. He wasn't gay at all. He just liked to... well ok he liked to fuck guys, that's kinda gay. But it wasn't like Caleb-gay. 

I thought for a moment as my cock drooled in my briefs. "Show me how you suck him, yeah?" I proposed. 

Caleb loosened his tie and pulled off his suit coat. He started to undo his belt buckle. "No no," I protested, "Seriously, I don't need to see your body down there." He shrugged and took off his dress shirt hurriedly. He left on his tie, even tightened it back against his neck. 

"Samir likes to pull on it sometimes when I'm going down on him or from behind when he's stuffing me," he knelt down in front of me. I remembered when Mr. Hamad had put his tie around Derek's neck while he fucked him. 

I reached forward and took the silky tie in my hand and pulled his head forward. "This how he does it?" I turned my hand to wrap the tie around my palm, bringing his face to me. 

"Yes, and then this," he said and then took two of my fingers between his lips and sucked them. 

I pushed them back against his tongue, reaching for the back of his throat. He gave a little wretch sound but swallowed and smiled. He nodded his head with an "uhhh mmm" sound. His mouth felt weird but then I hadn't ever had my fingers in someone's mouth. I didn't think girls would like this. His eyes blurred a little but he wasn't fumbling, he knew how this worked. 

I slid my fingers out and wiped them across his nose. They were wet with his spit, and I painted his cheeks. He looked at me with disappointment. He gripped the arms of the chair for support and I pulled him up closer. I pulled on the tie, bringing his face inches from mine. He pursed his lips like he wanted a kiss. His breath brought the scent of his gum to my nose. He had spit it out, but the spearmint lingered and I studied him with mild repulsion. 

"You really get off on this, don't you?" I felt a rough voice come out of my mouth. He lowered his stomach and slid his hard little prick against my thigh. I was glad I hadn't let him take his pants off. 

"Yes sir," he said in that nauseating little whine, "Samir does too." That last part turned my stomach. It wasn't the Mr. Hamad I knew. It wasn't my Arab. 

"Show me what he likes and don't sound so faggy," I said flatly. This was investigation, insight into my mentor. That was all it was, I told myself. 

I let the tie uncurl and slip from my fingers. Caleb lowered his lips to my neck and started to tickle me with his tongue and soft bite. His hands reached for the buttons of my shirt. He loosened my tie just enough to slide my shirt open. His teeth, tongue, and lips did a little dance down my neck to my smooth, pale chest. 

"Damn, I knew you were built," he said as he kissed down to my small, pink nipples. "So fucking beautiful, dude," he said in less of a whine, trying to imitate the Cali surfer-bro accent. He bit and sucked at my nipples, sending waves over my chest and a ripple through my stomach. I flexed and tensed my already cut muscles unnecessarily. I don't know why, but I wanted to look bigger for him. If I wanted to experience what Mr. Hamad saw in him, I needed to bulk up. 

He kissed down my abs, taking a special interest in my belly button, "I love an outtie, easier to keep clean, no surprises," he said matter-of-factly to my small protruding button. "Samir will love this too," he added, always putting a detail about Mr. Hamad to keep me engaged in this with him. He knew my secret. 

His hands rubbed at my bulge. I was proud of it, but I knew that coming from his usual diet of thick, Arab meat, mine would be somewhat of a disappointment. 

His teeth worked my belt buckle and he expertly pulled it out and opened it. He bit at the buckle again and slid it out of the loops and then spit it on the floor. The things he knew to do with his mouth made my cock twitch and leak more in my briefs. 

He worked at the button next, the pants were a little loose there to accommodate my sizeable ass. Mr. Hamad had said they would get tailored next week when we got back to Satra. He said we would get more suits for me and make sure they fit. He had slid his hand into the back to show his disapproval of how loose the waist was. But he stopped when he got to my cheeks since they were tight there. He gave them a squeeze, approving of my muscles. 

Caleb opened them and bit at the zipper, sliding it down as my cock, poking at the restraining briefs pushed out. He used his hands here to slid my pants down and off. I sat there in my tie, blue briefs, and black socks. He stood and backed away, taking me in. 

"Damn, your body is bangin', Linc. I can see why you got the job the first interview," He smiled. He didn't look half bad with his shirt off. He was thin but somewhat toned, definitely not flabby like some guys his size. He must have worked hard to keep the balance without getting too big lest someone mistake him for an alpha. 

"Uh, thanks, I guess?" I stretched out a little, sliding down to move my package towards the edge of the chair. He stepped towards me again and I couldn't help myself. I sat up on the edge of the chair and reached for his tie. It dangled from his neck, down his smooth, pale chest. We were two white boys getting it on in the head office of a top Arab business. I wondered what the CIA would make of this if they had his business under surveillance. 

I grabbed him roughly by the tie and dragged him back down to his knees. He coughed as I cut off the air, but smiled hungrily. "You're getting the hang of this," he said with a dry throat from below me on the floor. 

"Yeah, you too," I said and pulled him back to me. I laid back and he slid off my briefs with his teeth. They didn't want to go and they caught on my cock, but he was a persistent and experienced little fag. He pulled hard and twisted them around and then down and off. He took them and put his nose right in the crotch, inhaling deeply. 

"That's gross," I laughed, knowing it was something I engaged in nightly. 

"Sorry... sir," he said in a masculine but submissive tone, "I honestly haven't ever explored anyone younger than me, much less whiter. It's different." 

"Then stop wasting time with my briefs," I said and a spark ignited in his eyes, liking the firm tone I adopted with him. I didn't know where it was coming from. I honestly had never thought I would be here naked in a shiny tower dominating an older skinny white guy. Oddly enough, I was quickly adapting to the situation. 

I pulled on his tie again and brought his lips inches from my cock. With my free hand, I grabbed my shaft and pumped it twice as he tried to taste the tip with his tongue. I held firmly on the tie and slowly lowered him to it. It was choking him, but not too much. 

His lips settled on the tip of my cock and he pressed them together firmly as I tugged on his neck through the tie. He banged his lips against the tip a few times like he wanted me to force it into him. I grabbed his hair like I'd seen Mr. Hamad do. I pulled it down painfully so he had nowhere to go and suddenly he parted his lips, just slightly. It was all I needed and I shoved the tip in. 

"Mmmmm" he whined around my cock sending vibrations through it. Before he'd started, I was worried about it shrinking up in disgust, now I was worried about how long my cock could resist his expertise. I gripped his hair and put my other hand on the back of his head, pushing him down deeper. 

His lips slid down my shaft in this forced O shape that felt like a kung fu grip ring around my cock. Behind the lips, the rest of the shaft was getting a warm tongue bath. It was wet and hot in there and he swirled the tongue in slow, deliberate circles around me. 

He wasn't even moving now as I just held his head there with half my cock inside him. 

"Aww fuck, aww dude, uhh oh man," I was mumbling nonsense at the sensations on my cock. This was nothing like the girls I'd let go down on me. They were sloppy slurpers wanting to get things over with and I wasn't much better. Their limp little lips would just sit there and they'd bob up and down on it letting my cock rub against their tongues. 

Not this guy. Caleb was full-on certified triple platinum. I got lost there just holding his head in place while his lips vice gripped my shaft and his tongue danced around me. I let my hands slide and he popped off my cock. 

"Dude you suck at this," he laughed. "You have to force it in, talk filthy to me, make me your bitch, bro." He coached me. "Samir would never let me get away with just resting my head on his cock. He takes what he wants, fucks my throat, lets me know who is in charge. And I'm taking these damned pants off. Even if you don't want to touch me, I like being naked. It's how Samir would want it." Caleb stood and shucked his pants and slid off a skimpy pair of red briefs. 

"Ahh oh, ok," I mumbled groggily. I'd do anything to get my cock back in that mouth. I sat up a little and focused. 

"Get on that cock... uh... put your fag hole on my... Oh wait. Ok let me try this again," I fumbled. 

Caleb sat back on his heels, looking up at me from the floor with spit dripping down his reddened lips to his pecs. He laughed, but looked at me adoringly. 

"God damnit, Lincoln. You're so cute and innocent," he laughed, "Samir must eat that up." 

"I'm trying, just shut up and let me try it again, ok?" I sighed, feeling slightly defeated, even my cock was starting to soften. 

I stood then, decided it was better to do this on my feet like I'd seen Mr. Hamad do with Derek. I stepped towards him and he raised his head, opened his mouth, and looked up at me with blue eyes that mirrored my own. 

"You want to suck this. You dreamed about it. You wondered what your owner was so curious about, what made him choose me. right?" I said in a slow, deep growl. 

"Yes sir," he nodded, his interest piqued. 

"You want this cock in your throat. You want to be my little fag bitch, right?" I continued. 

"Yes, please," he leaned forward, but I grabbed his hand and pulled his head back. I had his neck bent at a sharp angle so he was looking up at me with mouth agape and tongue wiggling in desperation. 

I grabbed my shaft slapped the hard cock against his tongue a few times, painting it with the tip. And then I pulled his head towards me, shoving into him all the way as fast and deep as I could. He sputtered around it and I started to ram him. 

"Look up at me, I need to see the begging in those eyes," I said and his eyes snapped open and stared directly into mine. I started to pick up the pace, throat fucking him with the tip of my cock. His lips went back to the strong grasp on my shaft, massaging it as I slid in and out of him with abandon. 

"I [pump] am NOT [pump] your [pump] replacement," I punctuated each word pushing in as deep as I could. My balls were slapping him in the chin. His skin was so smooth. 

"I'm [pump] not [pump] a lazy [pump] sluthole [pump] I'll never [pump] be you [pump], Caleb!" I was ramming him and that last bit caught in his eye with a sting. 

He put his hands on my thighs and stopped sucking on me. He was trying to push away, but I held him there until he jerked his head off. My cock popped out with a "Smack!" 

"That's not right Lincoln, fuck you," he said and turned away. His eyes were red but I wasn't sure if it was from the face fucking or the words I said. 

"I was just trying to... Sorry. I got carried away," I said but still jerked my cock slowly. I was nearly ready to shoot. 

"Just sit down again. I'll finish it," he sniffled and I thought I saw a tear. I struggled between feeling like a total asshole and feeling like I was ready to shoot all over him. 

I stood there, still stroking slowly, sorting through my conflict. "No, I'm sorry... it's..." I started, but he cut me off. 

"JUST SIT DOWN, INTERN!" he barked, regaining his pride slowly. 

I sat back in the chair and he crawled over to me. His eyes were a little red still, but he was straightening up, soldiering on. 

"You want that cock again?" I started with the dirty low voice again as he crawled between my legs. But then he rose up quickly and pounced on me with his lips to mine. 

I didn't have time to react, his lips wrestled mine. He was used to a much more formidable foe. His tongue slid between my lips and he knelt on the chair with his knees on either side of my thighs. I felt his ass rest against my knees as he leaned into me. His skin felt cold from the air conditioner and I slid my arms around his back to warm him. 

The kiss wasn't something I wanted, but I felt it was the least I could do after speaking to him like that. So I let him settle in against my chest as he sweetly sucked my tongue into his mouth. 

"You're not too bad at that," he said with a wicked smile as he pulled away. "First gay kiss?" 

"I'm not gay," I whispered half-heartedly through my haze, his lips inches from mine. He was actually pretty good at that. 

"Do you want to fuck me? I think I'm good to go down there," Caleb was serious, ready for business. It was a different look on him. 

"No! Jeez, I thought you only did that with Mr. Hamad," I said, my cock staying hard and poking between his cheeks. He started to rub up and down against it, sending little shivers through me. 

"I know, but it might be your only chance. He certainly won't ever let you near his ass. And there isn't much of a market to get fucked by a submissive white boy over there. It's not a concept they know," Caleb bit his lip, bouncing in slow motion against me. 

"I don't want to fuck him either. I'm not," I started. 

"Not gay, right we're still doing that," he rolled his eyes with a laugh, "Ok then, just let me hot dog it for a few more minutes, this feels good, right?" 

I nodded and let my hands slide down to hold his hips. He felt so weak in my lap. There was something strangely hot about it. I felt powerful with him. His cock was unimpressively hard and scraped against my smooth abs. He had his arms wrapped around my neck, occasionally burying his face in my shoulder as he bounced. He kissed my neck and my body buzzed with his sweetness. 

I felt like I was seeing through his wall for the first time. I got little glimpses of what Mr. Hamad saw in him. Behind that obnoxiously loud gay stereotype he wore, there was a weak and passionate boy. I focused on that because my cock was ready to blow all over him as he expertly rubbed my cock up and over his hole. 

He tried to sneak it inside him a few times and I inhaled sharply as the tip pushed against the pursed, tight lips. I shook my head no. I knew that was a line I wasn't to cross. He belonged to Mr. Hamad, that was his to use. Whatever was going on between them I instinctively knew better than to take what belonged to my boss like that. 

"Fuck Linc, I need it," he whined against my neck. I slid my hands up his back and pulled him to my chest as he kept up the slow, pressured rhythm. His teeth bit softly against my skin and I knew he'd leave a mark there so I pulled him into me harder, his chest against mine. 

"Cale?" I whispered to him. 

"Yeah..." he breathed into my ear. 

"Don't leave a mark, kay? Don't tell him either. I... you're his ok? I don't want him upset that we messed around. He might send me home," I hadn't thought about it until now. He might not be too thrilled with my babysitting techniques of his 25 year-old "cub." 

"He wouldn't do that, he'd just use it to bring you deeper into knowing you owed him, belonged to him," Caleb said flatly. "It's all good though, we should wrap this up before he comes back... can you finish in my mouth?" He slowed his bouncing and reached behind himself to give my cock a few pumps in his firm grip. 

He didn't wait for an answer. He leaned up and kissed me quickly before going back to the floor. I wanted to hold him more. It took me over. I started to see his beauty in the way he moved in my lap. If only he could let that shine through whatever crap West Hollywood had pushed on him. 




Lincoln's Pride Ch. 03



He climbed off me and I grabbed his arms one last time and pulled him to lean down and meet my lips. 

"Cale?" I whispered again as he pulled away. 

"What? Do you want to come or not?" He said impatiently. 

"I just... you're beautiful, ok? Just like this, being sweet and showing me how things work. I see now what he sees in you and know I could never replace that. I wouldn't want to," I blubbered on and his look softened. 

"That sounds sorta gay," Caleb laughed and slowly pumped my cock in reward. "But thanks, Link. I know you will take good care of him. You have to so that I can move on and so can he. Now shut up and give me that 'straight boy' juice." 

He went back to how he first started to suck me. The tight O-ring lips followed by the warm tongue bath and gentle throat massage. It was like a carwash with my cock sliding through and in my head I pictured four hispanic guys waiting with towels at the back of his throat. 

I grabbed the back of his head again and started slamming into him. He moaned and whined on me and stuck his ass up towards the desk behind us, wiggling it to show me what other skills I had missed out on. 

"Uh I'm gonna blow Cale, I... uhhh," I pushed into him as far as I could and his mouth took over. He grabbed onto my ass and held me there in his mouth as his tongue flexed around my cock trying to milk it. I started shooting into him, my body flipping around in the chair as I lost control, buried it in him. He was desperate for my seed and even without hands knew how to get every drop of it out of me. 

"UHhhh FUckkk!" my voice went up an octave and then dropped again within the same phrase. "Take it Cale!" 

Mid-shot I heard his voice behind me and felt two strong hands come down on my shoulders. My head snapped up as I fired round 3 into Caleb's throat. "Feed him, baby," Mr. Hamad stared down at me with an approving nod. 

My look turned to horror. "Oh Shit, I... UHHH" I was still shooting. "Sorry UHHH Mr. Ham-ahhhh," Caleb was milking me hard, not even caring that our boss had just showed up early from his meetings. I slapped the arm rest as my body lurched aimlessly in orgasm. 

"It's ok, Lincoln," he assured, squeezing my shoulders in tight massaging circles. "It feels right, doesn't it?" 

I nodded with one last, "AHHHH" as Caleb slurped the last of my offering. Mr. Hamad kept his stare on my eyes, which for some reason must have been more interesting than his two blonde boys playing. I kept my eyes on his as he rubbed me and started to work my pecs with equal roughness. 

"Finish for me, little one, breed his throat," Mr. Hamad urged me in a quiet low voice, maybe not wanting Caleb to hear. I pumped him roughly a few more times, pulling at his hair as his eyes slid up my chest to beg me for more. I used my other hand to rub at his cheek where my cock puffed it out. I rubbed down against his throat where my tip was somewhere nestled. I felt him breathing desperately through his nose and a little snot blew out and his eyes watered up. 

I gave his face one last gentle slap and then let him go. 

I was finished and I slumped back against the chair, fighting to keep my eyes open and on Mr. Hamad as he rubbed me roughly. I didn't know what time it was and I was confused as to why he seemed totally ok with what he saw. 

I felt Caleb slid off my cock and then he was standing at my side. Mr. Hamad slid one of his hands behind Caleb and did something to him that made him arch his back and cry out with pleasure. Mr. Hamad's other hand continued to rub harshly on my left pec, he tweaked my nipple and made it stand at attention. 

I looked over at Caleb jerking his cock over me and Mr. Hamad standing next to him, rubbing both of his blonde boys. Caleb had his eyes on me, a little of my cum on his lips. He licked it and stuck his tongue out to show me he still had more of me in his mouth. 

Something about it all suddenly seemed weird. I know, I know. I'd just had a guy blow me and ride my cock against his ass and kiss me and slurp me and only now that it was over did it seem wrong. I tore my eyes off of them and looked down at myself naked, pale, strong. My cock was going back to soft and looked red from all the beating it had taken in this. 

"What's wrong, little one?" Mr. Hamad said gripping my pec in his strong, dark hand. I looked down at it and noticed he had dark hair over the back of his hand and on his knuckles. It felt so warm against my skin, felt like the only thing about this situation that was right. He reached over to my other pec and gave it the same treatment, and then we both realized my heart was beating with anxiety. 

"I... uh... no," I whispered, "No." I wiggled out from under his palm and started to get up. He gripped my bicep to stop me, but didn't force me to stay. 

I went for my briefs and stepped back into them. "This is not me," I stammered to myself and anyone who cared to hear. "Not me." 

"It's ok, little..." Mr. Hamad started to say, but then Caleb drowned him out with deep moans as he started to shoot all over the chair. I was over by the desk now and saw from the side that Mr. Hamad was fucking him with two fingers. Caleb was shaking, rocking his head forward in quick sharp movements. 

"Ahhh fuck daddy," he yelled, "Fuck your wittle babyhole!" He was lost in the ecstasy of the intimate exchange, unaware the other two participants were over it. 

I looked at Mr. Hamad who gave me a shrug, torn between figuring out my problem and finishing his obligation to Caleb. I slipped on my briefs and turned away from them. I'd make the solution for him and take myself out of the equation. X plus nothing is just X. Simple. I went for my shirt and pants and hurriedly dressed as Caleb screamed in joy behind me. 

"Lincoln, little one, please," Mr. Hamad called and I turned to see him slide his fingers from Caleb's hole and come towards me. I backed away and put my hands up and he realized what he'd just been digging around in. 

"Oh, uhh," he grabbed a tissue from the box on his desk and then grabbed three more for good measure. He wiped his fingers and looked at me. "We have to get ready to go soon. I have a shower down the hall so you can clean up. I have clothes for you for the airport. You can leave that suit, it doesn't fit you well anyways. My secretary will donate it." 

"I... I can't... I mean, look what I just did... That's... I'm so sorry," I buttoned my shirt in awkward horror. 

"Don't be stupid," Caleb's voice sounded behind Mr. Hamad. "You had fun, we both came, Just something we do." 

"You do that... I don't," I said softly, more to Mr. Hamad than to Caleb though I stared at my socks. 

"I know that's not you, Baby," he said softly and came in front of me and gripped my biceps firmly. Mr. Hamad's touch brought that primal magnet out of my chest. "We can talk about this on the plane. Ok, little one? Please don't quit now. Please don't walk out on me. Please don't... " He didn't finish, but in my mind I knew he was trying to say please don't leave me with him, with Caleb, with the world he had fallen into.



Lincoln's Pride Ch. 04



"It's ok, little one, you have time for a nap," Mr. Hamad pulled me into his side as we inched down La Cienega in the back of a chauffeured Mercedes heading for the airport. I still wasn't feeling right, but anxiety drains my energy. 

I'd calmed down a bit. He had sent me off to the shower by myself. I scrubbed away the guilty feelings. When I finished, I'd found fresh clothes on the counter, but I didn't see anyone.

The clothes I had on before were gone and there was a fresh pair of mint green briefs, tight and tiny like he liked them. There was also a pair of supersoft green jogger pants and a long-sleeved green t-shirt that matched the briefs. The shirt made my biceps and pecs look impressive. He picked things out for me that hugged in just the right places or I guess his stylist did. I thought back for a minute on the day I'd stood naked in his office protesting as he took pictures for the stylist. 

At my first yawn in the car, he pulled me over by the waistband of the green jogger pants. I struggled only slightly and his strong arm and warm chest quickly had me closing my eyes against his heartbeat. He put a hand on my hair and stroked it softly as he held me. I felt the anxiety from the Caleb incident fade out of me with each pass of his hand. 

I buried my nose in his neck, then realized he didn't have that heavy musk to which I'd grown accustomed. I breathed him in and it was different but familiar. I'd smelled that cologne before, but not on him. "What happened to your cologne?" I asked. 

"I thought it was time to make a change. I wore the old one for so long because Caleb liked it. You like this one?" he looked over at me, our noses brushed and his beard tickled my chin. 

I nodded and suddenly remembered I'd smelled that cologne on a Latino guy who came to meet with Mr. Hamad earlier this week. He flirted with me a little and I wasn't interested, of course, but I couldn't help sniffing him when I passed to grab a file or make a copy for them. He was a handsome guy though not as built as Mr. Hamad. The cologne, light but insistently male, tied together his image as someone important, someone to obey. He was someone Mr. Hamad saw as an equal. 

I finally did stop when Mr. Hamad gave me a raised eyebrow and told me to go take a break while he finished things up. The businessman stood and shook my hand then pulled me close and kissed my cheek. I got one final whiff of him and lingered just long enough to feel his hand grip my ass on the side of me out of view for Mr. Hamad. 

"I do. I might steal some of it," I joked. He wore the old cologne for Caleb. This new one he had investigated and purchased for me. I felt butterflies flap around inside my stomach. I pretended to fall asleep on his shoulder, just listening to his heartbeat throb in his neck. 

Out the window, I saw the city I was leaving behind. I'd always dreamed of someday moving down to LA and making something of myself, making my family proud. But now I would leave it behind. I'd turn it all over to Caleb. Los Angeles was all is, Mr. Hamad was mine. 

++++++

Shortly, we pulled up to the airport and he attempted to lift me out of the backseat of the car, but I flailed and said, "No no, I can walk." We attracted a few asian tourist onlookers at that, but he set me down on my feet and instructed the driver to give the bags to an airline employee waiting near the door. 

I rubbed the red of my sleepy eyes as we traipsed through to the security line. We went off to a smaller area where an officer did a quick security wand and let us through. The gate wasn't too far away either, and we boarded directly onto an empty plane. I followed Mr. Hamad through the door and then he pushed me in front of him down the narrow aisle. This plane was huge and had three rows of cramped seats hugging two narrow aisles.

He pushed me all the way through to the back where there was a staircase that wound up to the second level. We went through a bar lounge area that had tvs and comfortable benches. There was a lady there and she opened a door for us back to a narrow hallway. There were three doors on the right and three on the left all spaced about 8-10 feet apart. 

We went to the last door on the right and it opened to a small cabin. There were two large blue fabric chairs with a sort of protruding pod between them that functioned as a table with a surface that glowed a warm, soft amber. Across from the chairs there was a large flat-screen TV built into the wall. 

"Hello, Mr. Hamad, good to see you again. I'll be exclusively yours for the duration of our journey for anything you may need. Would you like a double or single?" a deep voice said in perfect British from behind us. I turned to see Mr. Hamad smiling at a dark man a few inches shorter than him in a grey suit. He looked to be early 20's and had jet black hair pushed up in neat spikes atop his arab complexioned face. He was in good shape but slender, and I smiled to myself remembering Caleb saying Mr. Hamad only liked light boys. 

"Single of course, Andir," Mr. Hamad said with a smile to the man as though he weren't disappointed in the least at our choice of flight attendants. 

"Of course, Mr. Hamad, and what name would you prefer for your... companion?," Andir said and moved to push back curtains on the windows to let in the last bits of the day's sunlight. I backed up to give him space and felt Mr. Hamad's chest behind me. 

"You'll need only to address me," Mr. Hamad said. 

"Of course, sir. I will put that in the notes for your future travels," Andir said. He may have been a slight man, thin, not built, but his voice showed more power and privilege than his body. I felt Mr. Hamad pull me back into his chest and his strong arm crossed over my chest protectively. A man was bringing in our two smaller bags. He set them inside the doorway and I had been moved to accommodate them. 

"Thank you," Mr. Hamad said. The luggage steward bowed and moved away. 

Andir opened an overhead compartment and pulled out two small blue pillows. He fluffed each and set them in the oversized chairs. He took a small blanket out and put it on the seat by the window. 

"I will be back after take-off to set-up the beds to the single unit. What may I bring you prior to take-off, sir?" Andir ignored me completely and looked only at Ali. 

"A Samabir for me, neat please, and a juice box or something with a straw for the boy," Mr. Hamad said, "Oh and water of course." 

"Of course, sir. I will get those and we should be taking off as soon as the steerage below are safely in their pens." He laughed at his joke about the common people in the regular seats. 

Andir left us with a small bow and closed the door to the cabin behind him. Mr. Hamad released me and I moved about to survey our tiny room; our holding cell for the next 13 hours. I thought back to all Caleb had said, the things Mr. Hamad would try on me. I looked over at him and he smiled and waved a hand towards the seat by the window. I peered into his large brown eyes and soft brown lips. He didn't look capable of the things Caleb had said. 

"Is there some work you want me to complete while we fly, sir?" I said, assuming office speak to hopefully give us some direction on this long flight. 

"Let's focus on relaxing. We have a long time together here, and I know it's your first flight. There are some movies on the TV. I think there are three or four with big explosions. I know explosions are important to you," he said with a laugh and sat in the seat by the door. 

"Really sir?" I looked over excitedly as he grabbed the remote and flicked on the giant screen. 

"You want MotoDeath 3, Race to kill 2, or Blow 'Em All to Hell 8?" Mr. Hamad fumbled with the names as he scrolled through the adventure list showing he wasn't a fan of the genre. 

"Yes, yes, and YES, Please!!" I said with excitement. But then a blue screen came on and a flight safety video popped up over it. 

Andir came back in and set the water bottles in a holding bin built into the wall. He set a child's apple juice box and Mr. Hamad's drink on the small plastic pod table between us. 

He slipped a long card from his back pocket and handed it to Mr. Hamad and they said some things in Arabic to each other. Mr. Hamad pointed to some things on the card as he spoke and Andir nodded. I looked over and saw a few pictures of food on the card.  

When Andir nodded and left, Mr. Hamad went to one of our bags which had been secured to the wall with some stretchy cords. 

"I have the pill from the doctor, you will want to take it now. It will relax you for the take-off and help you sleep through the flight," Mr. Hamad said and handed it to me with one of the water bottles. 

"I'd rather not, sir," I said, remembering what Caleb had said. "If it's ok, I'd like to watch since it's my first flight, plus we have the movies and... and..." 

"Lincoln," Mr. Hamad interrupted to indicate I was blabbering again, "It is your choice what you put in your body. I only want you to be happy and enjoy yourself. You will want the juice box though. The sucking helps the pressure in your ears if they hurt. Knowing your anxious and accident nature I thought we should be prepared." 

He returned the pill to a small plastic pouch and slipped it into the side pocket of the larger bag. 

"Thank you, sir," I said and buckled my seatbelt as the captain came over the speaker to tell us we were ready to go. 

The cool thing about flying out of LA is that you go up and out over the Pacific. The land quickly disappears behind you. It is the most beautiful thing in the world to see the islands off the coast appear below you. I'd never realized they were there. 

We went straight up and then made a turn and headed back towards the land. I saw the giant wheel of the Santa Monica pier, the mountains behind the city with tiny little box houses built up the sides. And then an endless slab of concrete buildings, crammed streets, tiny cars heading home for the night. I craned my neck from my chair to take it all in. 

And then I felt Mr. Hamad's hand on my shoulder. He was saying something and I turned to him and yelled, "WHAT SIR? I CAN"T HEAR YOU." It was like someone had muted the television and I realized suddenly the world had no sound. 

He pushed the juicebox into my hand with a worried frown. He had unwrapped the little red straw and poked it through the foil opening. 

That first swallow brought instant pain to my ears as the pressure released. My face contorted in pain and I dropped the box and covered my ears. 

"Ow, ahh ow ahh," I chanted as my ears felt like someone had stabbed them with sharpened pencils. 

Mr. Hamad unbuckled and went for the pill in his bag and handed me the juicebox from the floor of the airplane as I watched the towers of downtown pass us. 

He put the pill to my lips and pushed it in and then put the straw right behind them. He was knelt in front of me and looked like my pain was hurting him worse. 

"Drink, little one, sip, baby, sip, baby boy," he said in a soft, soothing voice with worried eyes like he was trying to feed a child. He held the juicebox with one hand and rubbed my back with the other. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks but I wasn't making that annoying crying noise. It was my eyes watering from the pain. 

"Come," he said and undid my seatbelt. He walked me to his chair and sat down and pulled me into his lap. I'm still a little taller than him, but his massive arms held me like I was a small child used to this position. He had me sideways and looked up at me, inspecting my ears. "No blood, you'll be ok, but next time you will listen when I tell you what you need," he said more matter of factly than scoldingly. 

I nodded and sniffed back the snot my watering eyes had brought. I held my juicebox and sucked the last of the sweet apple from it. He leaned me back so my butt slid down against the chair space between his legs. My knees were drawn up into my chest and I leaned my head against his shoulder as he held me with one arm and stroked me with the other. 

The excruciating pain in my ears was ebbing very slowly. I started to feel how fast my heart was beating and my breath came in deep gulps. He lifted my head and wiped my nose with a tissue and then dabbed at my cheeks. 

"I'm sorry sir," I choked out after my breathing began to calm. "I always seem to mess things up around you. I'm really not a..." 

"Fuckup?" Mr. Hamad said with a smile. "It is ok, little one. I told you on day one to get ready for your world to explode. Everything is so new to you; flying, high-rises, boys like Caleb, extremely attractive Arab men to whom you don't understand your magnetic pull. Of course you have trouble getting used to it. I am patient, Lincoln. Just know that when what I tell you doesn't make sense, eventually it will." 

I was about to respond to that when Andir came back to our cabin. I tried to sit up when I saw him, but Mr. Hamad pushed me back down to intimate that there was no need to hide in front of the man charged with keeping us happy. Andir looked at me with sympathy and took a small white towel from his pocket to wipe up where my juice had spilled. 

"Sir, would you like me to take the boy and clean him up? Does he need any medicine?" Andir said looking past me to Mr. Hamad. 

"No, I will take him. He will be ok, first flight," Mr. Hamad lifted me up and I got to my feet. 

"Yes sir," Andir said, "I will have the bed ready when you return." 

Mr. Hamad led me down the hall to a small bathroom. He stood behind me as I saw my red, tear-streaked face in the mirror. They had a fresh stack of small towels in the basket on the wall. There was a small counter with a sink, a toilet and then a small shower area. He wet the end of a towel and rubbed it over my face and nose. He had his other arm wrapped around me and held me back against his chest. His chin was just over my shoulder and I again noted our height difference. 

"Does it bother you that I'm bigger than you, sir?" I asked, suddenly feeling the pill had freed my tongue. 

"You are bigger than me?" he paused and gave me a weird smirk in the mirror, "How so, little one?" 

"You know... sir. I'm a little taller than you are," I gave a weak smile behind my red eyes. 

"Height, yes. Does it make you feel stronger? Does it make you feel as though you have any advantage over me, little one?" Mr. Hamad said and wrapped his arms around my stomach, lifting me up off the floor to remind me how much stronger he was. 

"No sir, not in the least," I said truthfully and shivered under his touch. He tensed up to hold me in place as he dried my face with the other side of the towel. I felt his intimidating bulge press against my ass and he seemed to almost be grinding against me in a slow rhythm. I looked down to realize my cock was standing at full attention and bulging out in the crotch of my jogger pants. 

I watched his eyes travel down to my growing tent in the mirror. "Your little cub dick is excited by this." 

I suddenly felt shame take me over. My body was betraying me again. "I... no, sir." 

"Well we know you aren't bigger than me where it counts, are you?," he said with a laugh referring to his strength and fat Arab meat. I watched my face turn red all over again, and he smiled at me, at the power he had over my body. 

"Nothing to be ashamed of, little one. You are larger than average for a white boy," This time he said little with an icy tone. I turned away from him, not wanting to see the smug look on his face. But his hand gripped my jaw and he turned me back to look at him. I saw the deepest look of shame on my face. I bit my lip and watched my eyebrows furrow together, confused by my own feelings. 

He pushed me forward with a strong hand in the center of my back. He pushed me down so my chest pressed against the counter, and slid his free hand down my side to grip my hip. It was like his normal game of surprise restraining me. He was always making a point of showing his strength, his superiority over me. He pushed forward with his bulge, sending me towards the sink. I looked up at him in the mirror and he winked and ground his bulge against my ass a few times and spanked it a few times with his right hand. 

"You are bigger than me, little cub?" he asked. 

"No... no, sir..." I said as my face pushed against the cold mirror. I felt my chest tighten as he pushed me down hard, squeezing the breath from me. My face was sideways so I could see him as he stood over me looking down. 

"Oh ok. I thought that was important to you," he said in mock concern with an oddly gentle smile on his lips. 

"No sir, I just... The pill made me..." I started to say. 

"And now your ears feel better?" he interrupted and returned to a genuine look of fatherly concern. 

"They do!" I said as he let me up from the counter and backed away. 

"Good, our room should be ready unless you need some time alone to take care of your little erection," he said and moved away from me. The moment was passed for him, the show of strength. I recovered my breath and rose back up to look at him again in the mirror. 

I was still rock hard, but I covered it with my hands and followed him back to our cabin. We came in to find the chairs had reclined and the seat cushions came out to make two flat long beds, the plastic pod had folded out to make up the space between the seats. Inside that plastic shell it was folded cushions. Extended, it made one long flat rectangle where Andir had put a blanket and several fluffy pillows. The cabin lights had dimmed and there was a tray with two covered plates on the bed. 

We sat on opposite sides of the bed and watched a the film showing a series of explosions without much of a plot as we finished plates of lamb with rice and cucumber salad. Mr. Hamad pretended to be interested every time I looked over at him with wide eyes and excitement. I wasn't sure if I really liked the film or the fact that I was watching it with the pill Mr. Hamad gave me racing through my veins. 

Andir interrupted as the movie was finishing up and cleared the plates. He spoke softly to Mr. Hamad in Arabic and I split my attention between a fiery car rescue scene and whatever they were plotting in low voices. Mr. Hamad shook his head at Andir and said, "No, it's ok..." and then went back to Arabic as he stretched out across the bed and put a firm hand on the back of my neck, massaging me like a pet. 

"Yes sir?" I asked, annoyed that I was left out of what seemed to be an intense conversation. 

"Nothing, sweet one. Watch your... film," he said as though unsure what to call my selection of movies. Andir left looking disappointed as he whisked away our empty plates. 

"He seemed upset, did I..." I started. 

"No, he is used to spending time with us when Caleb accompanies me or when I fly alone. I always request him for my attendant. He doesn't understand that you are clearly... straight," Mr. Hamad said with a stifled laugh at the end. 

"Oh... OH!" I started and turned back to the movie as the credits started to roll and my cheeks blushed with warmth. 

"Let's get you ready for bed, little one," Mr. Hamad said and rubbed my back. I raised up and he patted my butt. We went to brush our teeth and then he found soft music station on the tv and turned off the lights. Another flick of a switch and two small amber lights glowed from either side of the room from unidentifiable sources. I stepped out of my jogger pants and folded them neatly. I stood in front of him in my green briefs and long-sleeve t-shirt. We were used to a certain level of nudity between us.  

He had me lay down and he spread the big fluffy blanket over the bed with me under it. I poked my head out and watched him step out of his pants and slide off his t-shirt. Unlike me, he simply tossed them on the floor. Someone would come to get them. He stretched and flexed his hard brown muscles wearing skimpy brown briefs that matched his skin tone making him look like an Arab Ken doll that someone at the factory had given an ample bulge. 




Lincoln's Pride Ch. 04



I gulped and his eyes found mine. He smiled at me, "I don't usually sleep with anything on. But after your excitement earlier, I don't want to tempt you from sleeping." 

I turned away from him, and stared at the window black with night. I felt the bed shift as he knelt behind me, lifted the cover, and slipped underneath. His warm, hulking mass sidled up behind me, but he hugged the pillow instead of me. 

"Lincoln," he whispered in that deep Arab tone. 

"Yes sir?" I said and turned back to him. 

"If you need me, wake me up. Sleep well, little one," he reached over and ruffled my hair. 

"Thank you sir, you as well," I turned back away from him. I sighed relief that this day was over and tried to think about the excitement that awaited me in his country. I reminded myself why I was here and pushed away all the thoughts of what happened with Caleb and Mr. Hamad this afternoon. 

I fell asleep, and awoke to the morning sun coming through the window. I tasted a nipple in my mouth and unconsciously sucked at it before I realized what I was doing. I opened my eyes to see a brown, furry chest rising and falling with breath. He was still asleep which meant I had time to move away. 

I started to raise my head, but realized his arm was across my back with his hand on my hair, pushing me into him. I couldn't risk waking him, so I reached up and lifted his hand off of my head. I slowly wiggled out from under his arm, and brought it back to rest against his chest. I raised up off of him, relieved that he hadn't moved. But then I caught his eyes, they were open and he gave me a little smile. 

"You're awake! Oh. I'm sorry. I don't know how I got there," I said, pointing to his chest. I was still pressed against his side, but now propped up on one arm. 

"You were having a bad dream," he said and slipped his arm around me again, resting his hand on my lower back, "You talk in your sleep, or at least last night you did. I thought you were talking to me. I woke up and touched your shoulder and you rolled over and against me. I thought maybe you were aroused again, but then I realized you were still asleep and upset. I pulled you into my chest and you settled down." 

"What was I saying?" I said realizing I hadn't actually slept next to someone in a long time. I remembered my brother telling me I talked in my sleep and once I even sang a song. 

"Bees, not gay, gay bees... oh and then something about peanut butter needs jelly. I said you talked, not that you made sense," Mr. Hamad laughed. 

I laughed too and unthinkingly rested my hand against his chest just between his massive furry pecs. Our eyes locked on each other, and then he leaned forward and kissed me right on the lips. It wasn't one of those sloppy tongue things you do with a girl, and for some reason it didn't seem wrong. 

"You sleep like an angel," He started, "At first you were an angel in distress. But once you felt my heartbeat you slept soundly in my arms. So beautiful, little one." 

"Girls are beautiful, guys are..." I started, but his lips interrupted me. They were strong and wrestled my own into submission until I felt his tongue slide through them. I slumped into his chest and his other arm came down over my back and he pushed me up and onto his chest. 

My cock was rock hard against his incomparably full basket as he held me close to him and let his tongue explore my morning breath. He pushed his briefs up and his bulge poked between my thighs, tickling my skin with the soft material. His hands reached up under my shirt and pushed it up to touch my bare skin. I felt the chill of the air in contrast to his warm touch. I shivered under his strength. 

I raised up off his lips and let him slip my shirt up and off. His mouth went straight for that spot where my neck meets my shoulders and he licked and kissed it making my chest stretch out as a gasp escaped me. 

"No, sweet one," he said and I'd already forgotten whatever statement I'd made that he felt the need to negate. "You are my beautiful cub, strong and sweet, loyal to your lion." 

"Yes sir," I mumbled hungrily as he went back to kissing my neck. I was so hard in my briefs that my cock pushed my butt up and his hands quickly found my cheeks and squeezed them. 

His hands slipped down my thighs and he pulled my knees up so I was kneeling over him. I raised up, my ass resting on his bulge, my hands resting on his pecs. He smiled up at me and went back to kneading my ass. 

"You want this, baby boy?" He asked with just a hint of fear in his eyes. 

I looked down at his imposing physique thoughtfully for a minute. 

I still wasn't gay, but maybe just with him. It was different with him. He wasn't a regular man, he didn't even seem human. He was like some ancient, mythical warrior whose presence made me feel weak but protected, anxious yet fearless. This wasn't two little twiggy boys flailing about in rainbow lust. Anyone seeing me out on my own wouldn't have the faintest hint I could ever fall for a guy. I play sports, I fuck girls, I even shot a gun once. 

And him... He spoke and people scurried. I'd watched an overly muscled trainer drop to his knees begging to suck him. He put on a simple white t-shirt and all of a sudden it was the hot thing to buy. And here he was, under me, rubbing my ass as I sat on his bulge. 

I nodded. He leaned up and kissed me again. He brought a hand to my cheek and pulled back to show me his smile. 

"I don't know what comes next, sir," I admitted. 

"Then let me show you," he smiled and brought his hands down to my sides. He jumped up and flipped over, pinning me down against the bed. He was over me, resting on his elbows like cages on either side of me. I smiled up at him, partially in shock at how quickly and expertly he'd done that. 

He leaned down and rubbed his beard against my cheek. It prickled my skin and made me giggle like a little kid. I had muscles of my own and I struggled against him with my hands on his chest to push him off me. But it only brought out the animal in him and he quickly moved to pin my arms up over my head, my wrists crossed against the pillow. I relaxed back into the bed, surrendering to the inevitable. 

"You already surrendered?" he whispered to my ear, sounding a bit disappointed, "I thought you'd fight a little more than that. You're not straight anymore, are you?" 

"I don't know," I whispered back honestly, "I think I am, until you're around me." I put my lips to his neck like he had done to me and I heard a soft moan escape him as I nibbled on his skin, brushing my teeth along sensitive areas. 

"You want to be my little bottom princess?" He was dead serious, and his tone brought a nervous laugh out of me. He moved to my lips again and kissed me before I could protest. 

"You do. I can taste it on you. You want your daddy inside you, breaking you in for the first time. Don't you?" He said in his low grating voice. 

"No sir, ouch!" I turned my lips to his with the sudden panic at the thought he would want to stuff me with that massive meat. 

"Don't worry, little one. We have a long ways to go and a lot of preparation before you could handle me. I promise I won't ever hurt you more than you can enjoy," he said. He kissed down my chest, biting and sucking on each nipple. He released my hands from above my head as he made his way down my body. I reached down to free my cock from the now overstretched briefs, but he pulled my hands away. 

"Please sir, it's so hard," I begged. He ignored me and kissed at my belly button. It tickled and my abs tensed up and jerked involuntarily as I tried to squirm away. He eased off, then slid his hands under my ass and lifted me up off the bed a little. He looked up at me like Caleb had done when he wanted to suck my cock. It wasn't the same though. He didn't seem interested in what I was poking just below his chin. 

He kissed down below my belly button and then kissed a slow trail down to my briefs. He gave a cursory brush of his beard to my tent and rubbed his nose along the shaft outline. I watched his eyes close as he breathed me. He must have been into my scent like I was to his. My cock was throbbing and I was so ready to shoot inside my briefs. One more brush of his nose and I would have rewarded him with my spurt. 

He could see it in my eyes and he moved on, kissing below the base of my cock just between my nuts. His hands moved down from my ass to my thighs and he pushed my legs up and over him so my knees were up to my pecs. He held them there easily with one hand and brought his other hand down to rub between the cheeks of my ass. 

"Your little hole calls for me, sweet one," his voice sounded from beneath me. I folded my legs up into my chest and held them so I could look down and see the top of his hair. 

"No, please sir," I begged. It was an odd mix of emotions having him down there, so close to the one spot a guy doesn't want anyone to ever get near. I felt dirty, but at the same time this need in me to share my most private spot with him was building like a fire. 

"You never played around down here," he observed as his lips kissed my cheeks. His hands went to the waistband of my briefs and he slowly peeled them down my thighs to expose my hole. For some reason I helped him, my hand went and pulled the briefs up and off. He took them from me then and inhaled where my cock had been trapped all morning, leaking several gooey spots. 

I spread my legs then and secured my knees behind my shoulders making myself into a crab with my hole in the air. I looked up at him, excited to see he was into my underwear like I was his. My cock throbbed against my stomach and leaked a little more. 

"You like that, baby? See the spots daddy made leak out of your little white cock?" he laughed. 

"Yes sir," I nodded and arched my back, flexing my abs to push my cock out proudly. It wasn't little at all. 

He turned the briefs out so my pre-cum spots were showing and he brought them to my lips. "Suck it clean, I paid good money for these," he ordered. Gross as it was, I put my tongue out and lapped at my juice. He pushed them inside my mouth then and I got a full taste of my cream. 

"Mmfff," I mumbled as his fingers pressed them deeper past my lips. 

"I know what my baby likes. I know how much you loved smelling and sucking the sweat from my jock. You wanted to taste what a real man is like, didn't you?" he was speaking in that soft but grating tone that made my heart thump in my throat. I nodded around his fingers and my briefs in my mouth. My secret was out and he splayed me open with his words without a hint of shame or disgust. 

"Hold on to those while I show you the second but most important use for your boy hole," Mr. Hamad slid his fingers out of my mouth and I clenched my lips around the briefs, sucking down the last of my precum even as more dribbled out of my cock to coat my stomach. I had that feeling of being on the edge of cumming, but it just wouldn't cross over yet. I humped at the air a little but my cock needed something more. 

"Beautiful little pink hole. I'm surprised I'm the first to discover it. I guess a big strong jock like you," he said mockingly, "kept it hidden so no one would suspect what a little bottom beggar you really are." 

"Mm not gay," I tried to say around the briefs I was sucking on like a pacifier. 

"Right, nothing gay about this," he said with fake sincerity and I felt his lips touch my asshole. 

"MMMM," I squirmed from surprise. His tongue touched it next and I jumped again. I felt his warm hand rub over my stomach then and he gave my cock a squeeze at the base and jerked a slow tight grip up to the top, spilling out a copious amount of precum. 

"Ahhh!" I said, begging him to continue, but he released me and I realized he'd used the momentary diversion to slip his tongue up inside me. I felt it when he started to work his tongue in circles around the ring of my hole. I stopped squirming then as my body was flooded with warm sensations. He licked over a spot that made my cock jump against me. This was the longest I'd ever been on the edge in my life. 

He pulled his tongue out and peered at me from behind my throbbing cock and balls. He spit at my hole and then rubbed a finger around the ring. He started to work his thick middle finger into the resistant hole. He took his time though and didn't force it. 

"Open for me, little flower," he said to my hole, "Relax for your new owner." 

"Mmff, ahh," I whimpered as he pushed into me. He persisted and it popped inside, flooding me with new sensations his tongue hadn't produced. I felt a million little nerve endings stand at attention and marvel at his touch. 

"Eee!" escaped my lips around the briefs stuck in my mouth as the most appropriate reaction to his invasion. His eyes traveled up my body and locked onto mine. 

"You want me inside you," he said and I nodded with a "Ess Irr." 

He moved up the bed, keeping his finger in my hole, holding it there patiently as my body adjusted. He used his free hand to push down his briefs and I watched his footlong Arab snake flop out half-hard. The tip stared up at me with a painful reminder of what his finger represented. 

He was beside me, sliding his free arm under me and kissing at my neck as his finger started to move inside me. His cock rested against his stomach and started to thicken up as he worked inside me. With one hand he rubbed my side, pulling me over into his chest. The other worked my hole in slow, persistent circles as his lips played with my sensitive neck. He kissed my earlobe and sucked it between his teeth. 

"Let your lion in, little cub," he whispered between nibbles on my ear, "Let daddy take what's his." He pushed the first knuckle into me as I laid there like a grateful puppet. I nodded and looked over into his eyes. 

He bit at the briefs in my mouth and pulled them out. They were soaked with my spit and a few of my tears as my eyes watered at the growing force of his finger in me. He turned his head and spit them out towards the floor. I wasn't quite finished with them, but I was in no position to argue. 

"It will take much work before your little pink flower is ready for me," he observed as our eyes locked and then he leaned into me and put his tongue past my lips. I sucked him hungrily as he kept pushing into me. I wanted to be open for him. 

"You are mine?" he said without a hint of question. 

"Yes sir," I whined in a voice that sounded oddly high for me. "I'm yours." 

"I know, little one. I will be yours too. I will show you what your body was meant for. You will take the seed of a real man in your desperate little hole. I will mark you as mine," he said. It was something I never thought I'd want, but it felt so right. 

"I'm so close to cumming," I whined hoping he would finish me off soon. He had his finger inside me to the second knuckle. The black wiry Arab hair on his dark fingers was tickling the ring as he found my prostate and massaged it in small circles. My cock was throbbing to his finger's rhythm. I felt my body tense and relax in sync as well. 

"Please sir, I'm so close, I need to," and then my body started to shake and twist. I bounced my ass on his finger involuntarily which made it drive deep inside to the base. 

"Ahh AHHHHH," I started to scream as my cock bounced on its own, shooting sprays of thick white over my chest and face. 

He drove his tongue back into my mouth to silence me and I Mmm'ed and Ahhh'ed around his kiss. His other hand grabbed my ass and squeezed it tightly as he started to ride his finger in and out of me. It started to hurt, but I couldn't say anything and my body was on this continual convulsion of pleasure. 

He moved his lips back to my ear, growling, "Cum for me boy, cum for your master. You will only cum at my touch now. You are mine." 

"YES SIR," I yelled as my body kept shooting off an endless fountain. 

He bit on my shoulder then, and I fired off my last round with a sharp pain mixed with ecstasy. 

"Ahh Ow!" I was shocked out of the moment by the pain. 

"Calm, boy. Daddy's got you," he comforted and pulled me back into him as I came down. He kept his finger inside me and I started to breathe with him. I felt so weak and my legs were cramping from holding the crab position while my body violently emptied my nuts. 

He kept his finger in me even as he helped me untangle my legs. I laid there, covered in my own cum as my Arab boss had his finger in my ass and kissed softly at my neck. This wasn't how I pictured the day going. I realized his thick, massive cock was laying against my thigh, unfulfilled. 

"You have to cum now," I observed. 

"I will, little cub, but my boy always cums first," he said as though I hadn't read the manual. He reached over for my shirt which he'd tossed and used it to wipe the pint of milk I'd shot. With a sleeve of it he wiped at my cheeks and then pushed the globs towards my lips. I sucked hungrily as his finger, covered in the cum shirt pushed into me. 

His finger gave a few more angry pumps inside me and then he slid it out. I felt so empty when he left. For the first time I understood why guys did this. I need him again, gay or not, my body demanded it. 

I let out a whimper of, "Nooo," as the empty feeling spread through me. 

"That is enough for now. Finish your juice, baby," he said like a concerned father. I nodded and sucked it clean. He didn't have me eat all of my cum, that would have probably made me sick. He just fed me enough to remind me of the gift he'd allowed. 

With my body wiped and exhausted, he rolled me onto my side and I felt his massive scimitar poke between my ass cheeks. He pushed against me from behind, kissing on my neck as his cock rubbed up and down over my hole, along my back. I squeezed my cheeks together to grip him.

"You want daddy to fuck your little pink bottom," he observed and I nodded. 

His arms slid around me, holding me tightly against him as he sped up. He turned my face to his and kissed me deeply. He started rough humping against me, pushing me against the bed. He broke the kiss and turned me onto my tummy, my face pressed into the pillow. 

I felt his weight on top of me for a moment and then he balanced himself on his elbows as his cock pressed between my cheeks again. I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck as he humped me wildly, his cock sliding along my back. 

"Yes sir, please sir, fuck me sir," I whined under his weight. 

He kept it up, pumping away and I felt my cock hardening again against the bed. 

"Ahh fuck, this is too hot, I'm not going to last," he growled into my ear. He backed up off me and pulled me up by my arm. I struggled up and whirled around to face him as I knelt on the bed in front of him resting my ass back against my heels. I was at the altar of Hamad as his thick meat poked at my lips. He grabbed his cock and pumped it hard. He looked down at me and I raised my eyes to meet his. 

His finger pulled at my lips, stretching my mouth open. He put the tip of his cock against my lips and stroked it angrily. And then he arched his back and screwed up his eyes and my mouth started to fill with salty Arab cream. 

"MMM" I struggled to keep up, surprised at the first shot of man into my mouth. His hand came down and held the back of my head. He squeezed it as his body shook and he filled my mouth with his seed. 

"UHH, fuck, Uhhh, SO! FUCKING! FUCK!" he cursed as his body spasmed over me, my lips dripping with white. He finished in my mouth and I held it, not sure my stomach could hold this much cum. 

He backed off of me with one last shake and a loud, "Uhh fuck." He stood over me for a few moments collecting his breath and wiping the sweat off his brow. 

He stepped back and looked down at me, mouth agape and overfilled. He laughed, "Too much for you?" 




Lincoln's Pride Ch. 04



I nodded and asked. "Ahh I ooo?" 

"You need help, little one?" he knelt in front of me and smiled, "So fucking cute." 

He came at me with his tongue, licked the dripping white off my chin and lips and fed it back into my mouth. His lips covered mine and he sucked some of his cum back, splitting is with me. 

I thought he had swallowed his half so I swallowed mine. I finished and stuck my tongue out to show him I had finished. He nodded approvingly and came to kiss me again, delivering his half of his load back into my mouth. He'd tricked me. He pushed it down my throat with his tongue and I swallowed him. 

"All gone," he said with a chuckle as he broke the kiss, "Good boy." 

We sank back down to the bed and he covered us with the blanket, holding me against his chest. My head had returned to the position I'd woken up in, my lips at his brown nipple. He stroked my back as we came down together knowing our relationship was forever changed. 

"Mr. Hamad?" I asked, suddenly feeling fearful. "Please don't tell anyone about this. I mean... you know..." 

"Yes, you're not gay, I know," he said with a sleepy, exaggerated yawn. 

"No, I didn't mean that. I just..." I started. 

"I'll keep it out of the company newsletter, ok?" He said and rubbed his fingers through my hair. 

"I just don't want my family to find out about it. They would think I was doing it for the money to take care of them. They wouldn't care if I was into guys, but I don't want them thinking I'm some kind of you know sex worker or something," I said. 

"Wait, if you're doing this for free then I am basically throwing my money away on your paycheck," he laughed. 

"You know what I mean!" I was getting annoyed at how flippant he was being with my anxiety. 

"I know, little one... don't worry," he said and kissed my hair. 

A knock at the door broke us out of our warm cocoon. "It must be time to get ready for landing," Mr. Hamad said. 

He got up naked, his thick brown muscle dangling between his thighs. He strode over to the door and answered without shame. 

"Sir, we are landing in Satra in an hour and I thought you might want to shower and eat something," Andir said from the doorway. I burrowed under the blanket realizing I was naked and filthy. 

"Yes, is there an open shower for us?" 

"Of course, sir. I have it set up. It's this one next door." Andir said. 

We showered together for the first time and he washed me from head to toe, even working his finger back inside me to clean me out. It was the first time I'd ever shared a shower with someone where they interacted with me. It's not the same as at school, those you do on your own. He commented on my body as he cleaned it. I knew I didn't look anything like Caleb when it came to physique. I was tempted to ask if he liked me better, but I didn't want Caleb to even enter his mind right now. I felt so relaxed at his touch. 

We dried off and he let me pick out my own clothes from the limited variety he had put in my carry-on. I chose white briefs, white pants, and a plain white t-shirt because he said it would be incredibly hot when we landed, but shorts weren't acceptable for boys like me in his country. It was ok for home, but not for being out in the airport or public places. He dressed in a low-cut black v-neck tight shirt and some khaki shorts with red slip-on deck shoes. 

When we returned, Andir had packed away the room back to how it had looked when we took off from Los Angeles. I would miss our little private world in the sky. 

We ate a quick breakfast and Mr. Hamad ordered me another juicebox for the landing. He rubbed my back and told me to keep sucking as we slowly descended into the bright desert sun. My ears did better this time and with his warm, soothing touch. 

We pulled up to a gate and I expected us to go back down the stairs through the economy section, but Mr. Hamad said we wouldn't mix with them. "It's a zoo down there," he said. Instead there was a second door on the top floor of the plane that led to the VIP gates above the airport. 

Andir carried our bags behind us and followed us out to a waiting black Mercedes. Mr. Hamad put me into the backseat and I watched out the window as our driver took the bags from Andir and secured them in the trunk. Another man came with our larger bags and packed them in the trunk as well. I watched Mr. Hamad kiss Andir and exchange words and smiles with him. I felt a tinge of jealousy until I watched Mr. Hamad take a white envelope from one of the bags and tuck it into Andir's pocket. Payment, Andir was a worker. I was his boy. 

I turned back away from them and buckled my seatbelt. Outside the window there was the mountains and a city, but it was different from the peaks back home. This was dry, absolute brown, like a desert I'd read about in high school books. The sun blistered overhead and I watched the wind whip a palm tree mercilessly. 

And then he was next to me, leaning in to my side with a quick kiss to my cheek. He said something in Arabic to the driver and then pulled me into his side. They chatted back and forth in Arabic as I stared out the window. Mr. Hamad slid his arm around me and held me to his side. 

It started to hit me that we weren't in my world anymore. Not that his glitzy rich life in LA was mine, but at least it was my country. The rules would be different here. I needed to learn Arabic, learn the culture, and figure out my place here as more than just his assistant, his accessory. This is where I would come into my own and grow up. 

A big cartoon cutout of a camel waving hello welcomed us as we pulled out of the airport. He was saying something, but I didn't read Arabic. Then a second cartoon cartoon camel said it in English. 

"Satra, Lose your past and find yourself in the ancient kingdom of the future." 

I intended to do just that...



Lincoln's Pride Ch. 05



Thank you to those who sent comments. :) 

+{Lincoln's Pride}+

Part 5

"So you remember everything from the file I gave you about my family? You studied well, little cub?" Mr. Hamad asked as the black Mercedes glided down a narrow highway across the desert floor towards a series of sparkling white towers. 

"I think so, sir. You have four older brothers but two of them live far away, right?" I asked. 

"Names, Lincoln, who lives in my home?" He demanded as he laid his arm across my back and pulled me against him. 

"Ali is the oldest brother who still lives at home, and he is with Emerson, that deaf, blonde guy I signed with over FaceTime during my interview, right?" I looked over at him but he stared out the window. He nodded and waved one hand for me to continue.  

"Ok, then Zaid is the brother between you and Ali. I saw a picture of him, he is skinny... Not like Emerson skinny, toned, but not muscular like us, right?" I was trying to look out the window to see what had his interest, but just saw sand and some upcoming low buildings. 

"Muscular like... US?" Mr. Hamad turned to me with amusement and gave my pecs a gentle squeeze. 

"Hey, I'm not weak. I lift. And now we can start working out together. You can train me so someday it'll be a little more even when you try to attack me," I joked. 

"I attack you?" he gave a good laugh at that and turned to face me. He kissed my cheek, "And my workout routines for you will keep you just as you are. You're 18, there is no need to erase your youth with overtraining. Ok back on topic, little cub. Yes Zaid is skinny. He's always been the smallest. But he is clever. Do not mistake his size for his power. Now go on." 

"Oh and Dr. Hamad your father, and Emerson and Ali have two twin sons. I don't get how they did that though. In the pictures the boys look like a mix of both of them... but um... both fathers are male... right?" I asked. 

"Science, Lincoln. China can make anything you want for the right price. Two healthy, perfect boys with both of their DNA and without the hearing loss Emerson might have passed on." 

"They are Ali and Amir, did I say that right? Oh and the guy who takes care of them, Jai. I think that's everyone. Plus all the house staff, but you didn't mention their names. What do I call them?" I asked. 

"You don't call anyone. House staff speak to the men of the house. It is respectful and traditional for them to avoid the weaker... the innocents of the house." He said. 

"I'm neither of those things... sir," I reminded him with a smile to sound respectful, but he turned to me with a serious face. 

"We're not in Los Angeles anymore, little cub. Amongst my people, you are weaker. You will learn your place here. You may not speak so freely to me. You will not address others here unless they are my family. And even then it is only if they address you. It is how things are done here. Until you are ready to stand on your own as a man, a leader, you only address me," he put a hand to my cheek to show he was serious. 

"Won't that just make me seem weaker?" I looked at him doubtfully. 

"Allowing me to be your voice says to others that you understand us and come from good breeding. Your blonde hair and light skin may attract sexual glances, but proper manners will show you are of an elevated position. They will take you seriously as an intern and remember you took your time to learn our culture when you are ready to join our level. The impressions you make now will affect your future success or failure." He said this looking me dead in the eyes. 

I nodded, understanding, "That's why you call me a cub? I am learning to be a lion like you." 

"Yes... well, something like that," he laughed to himself and then ruffled my hair. I was tempted to reach up and do the same to his, but I wanted to seem serious. 

I noticed we were starting to wind up a road into the desert hills above the city. As we climbed, he pointed things out about the city below us. The sports stadium, the world's 12th largest mall, the zoo, the university, etc... Everything was new and clean and looked well-planned. It was very much the opposite of the chaotic landscape of Los Angeles. 

"This is our newer house," he waved a hand after we'd driven up through large gates and armed guards to a neighborhood of five homes on small, separate hills high above the city. "We built this two years ago to support our growing family." 

The house was angles of steel with large, sweeping windows that stacked glass boxes up the hillside. It looked like a resort hotel and had a large porte cochere covering a section of the circular driveway. We pulled under it and I saw two large, glass doors that looked like the check-in area of a fancy hotel. 

"It's still early, most of them will be at appointments so we will have some time to settle in before they come back," Mr. Hamad said to me as he opened his door. 

I followed him inside, the driver would take care of the bags. He entered something on the keypad and the glass doors slid open to reveal a sweeping marble room that was a perfect circle with three points of exit. The room was empty save for a round table in the center with a large splay of exotic flowers. 

I looked up and three levels above me was a perfect, blue glass dome. I paused to wonder how they cleaned it, but I heard Mr. Hamad clear his throat, "You will have a lot of time to take things in when we are settled. Let's get to our quarters." 

He extended a hand to me and I took it. He pulled me through the doorway to the right and two steps up to a grand sitting room with large, comfortable couches. A barking dog sounded from a distance and I turned but wasn't sure where it came from. I felt Mr. Hamad pull me again insistently, and I followed. 

We went through a long hallway, up more stairs, and out to a grassy courtyard. There was a blonde man, thin and small, but with tight muscles. At first I thought it might be Caleb, and my chest tightened. He would be the kind of guy to fly around the world just to fuck with my head. 

He was on a yoga mat and balanced on one hand as his body twisted up above his head like a circus act. He looked at us from his upside-down position and smiled widely. He neatly unfolded himself so his legs shot straight into the air. He brought his other hand down to the mat. He bounced once and pushed up off the mat. He lept into the air, turned, and landed in a crouch, right-side up. 

I started to clap like an idiot. It was beautiful movement. He was beautiful, graceful, smiling at me. He came towards me. 

He made the sign for link, like you would do for a link of chains, and then pointed at me excitedly. He was giving me a nickname, a name sign. I instantly recognized him from my interview the first day I'd met Mr. Hamad. 

I signed back, "Yes! That's me! You're Emerson. Wow you look amazing!" He came for me then and put his arms around me and hugged me excitedly. I don't know why, but when I put my arms around his waist to hug him back I wanted to pick him up. While I felt submissive and weak in Mr. Hamad's arms, Emerson's hug made me feel strong and important. I felt Mr. Hamad's hand on my shoulder and knew he probably wanted a hug from Emerson of his own.

I stepped back and Mr. Hamad lifted him up and kissed his cheek. I looked behind him and two identical 4 year olds were stepping out of a doorway across the courtyard followed by a thin man with black hair and coffee skin. The boys looked at me and then each other. Mr. Hamad moved me gently to the side with a squeeze on my shoulder and went to pick up a boy in each arm. He made goofy faces to each of them and kissed their cheeks while they squealed like kids do. 

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned back to Emerson who signed, "You're very strong and tall! I expected Samir to bring back someone more..." he stumbled for words, maybe not wanting to offend me. 

"Thank you," I signed back, interrupting, "I want to learn how to be like him, run my own business someday. I'm not here to be like Caleb. He's a mess." 

"He's my best friend," Emerson interjected with an alarmed look on his face. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I..." I started, but then his face turned to a smile. 

"It's ok, he's a mess, but... he's our mess," he pointed between himself and Mr. Hamad. "He was there for me as a kid growing up. He has a lot of good points, he really does." 

"I didn't know that. I'm sorry I offended you," I looked down at him. He was shorter than me, half my build, yet knowing his place in this family intimidated the hell out of me. 

"Link," he signed again with a smile. He put his hands on my pecs for a quick squeeze, and I was tempted to put my arms around him. Our eyes locked for a minute almost like he wanted me to kiss him, but that wouldn't be right or appropriate here. 

He pushed off of me and continued signing, "You have enough to worry about here. I am not offended. I will be here for you. Just promise me you will remember why you are here. I forgot totally and then it didn't matter anymore. My life is good, don't get me wrong and I have two beautiful boys to take care of plus a husband who loves me. But unless you want to end up like I did, keep focused on why you're here." 

"Ok," I signed, trying to make sense of all he was trying to tell me. 

"Don't misunderstand, Samir is a wonderful man. I see how he looks at you. You would be lucky to have someone like him be your lion. But I know he wants what Ali wanted, someone to be at home and raise his children, someone to come home to after long, stressful workdays. Just promise you won't open that door too much without really thinking about what you want or why you're here." He finished with a serious face. His body sighed and it seemed to clear his thoughts as his lips curled up into a smile. "Oh and welcome!" 

"Thanks, I... I'm here to learn his business. Plus I'm straight," I signed. 

"Yes, Samir said you say that a lot. I was straight when I came here too," he shrugged with a laugh. 

I looked back to Mr. Hamad who was on the grass pretending to wrestle with the boys while Jai, their caretaker, looked on anxiously. I imagined he would be severely punished if anything happened to the boys, but Mr. Hamad was careful and gentle with them. 

Emerson called them over with a wave and introduced me using signs. They both signed to me, thinking I was deaf like their father, asking if I was going to live there and did I know how to use legos and video games. I signed and spoke back eliciting surprise from them. They must not be used to both methods. I guessed Caleb hadn't interacted with them much. 

"Well boys, we need to get settled in. We'll be here for dinner, I promise," Mr. Hamad said to the twins with a kiss to each one's cheek. I hugged them each goodbye and then followed Mr. Hamad through another door on the other side of the courtyard. 

++++

His room, or rather aparment, was one large open room behind it's own privacy wall at the end of a stone pathway up a hill. There was a keypad and he punched something in without telling me what it was. The thick cement door slid sideways and opened to the large room. There was a huge bed to the left, two couches in the center, and a kitchen with a long bar to the right. 

"You said you prefered to share my quarters. If that changes, you can take a room in the main house, but it will need to be monitored for security. I am responsible for you here and I need to know what you are up to." He spoke as though I was a criminal he'd agreed to sponsor. 

"This will be fine for me, sir... I can work from the kitchen bar here if you need me to do things at home. I am here to learn from you all that you can teach me," I answered knowing full well that he'd want me with him. 

"Yes, perhaps it would be best for you to have everything here in one place to keep you focused," he said flatly as though it made no difference to him. "There is the kitchen, here is the living room, and over there is the bedroom." He waved his hand around the large room in one sweeping motion. 

"There is a bathroom and closet just behind that wall," he said pointing to a continuous wall. He moved towards it and I followed and watched as the wall wasn't what it appeared. It was an optical illusion from the front doorway, but getting towards the bed revealed a side opening. I followed him through it to a large open bathroom with a private area for the toilet. He showed me the closet and pointed to a small side area of it noting it held clothes for me. 

I smiled to myself thinking he must have known all along I'd prefer to stay with him. He had set up here for me. Or maybe he didn't care what I preferred and would have made moving into another room the more uncomfortable option. 

+++++

Our bags arrived and then two covered plates arrived for our lunch. So far I had counted a staff of four since we arrived. It seemed like a different person showed up for each small task. We sat at the kitchen bar and ate the artfully crafted sandwiches that looked ready to photograph as he told me about what we would work on this week at his business. 

He showed me around the grounds after lunch. His estate had everything one could want including a large pool and extensive outdoor party area, a small movie theater, a gym, and finally a garage with sixteen cars for every need from sports racing to a shuttle van. He let me sit behind the wheel of his prized Bugatti and promised he'd take me out to drive it one day. He leaned over me with his arm across my back pointing out all the features as his eyes glowed excitedly. 

"This can be yours someday, Lincoln. If you work hard and learn to be smart about business here. Anything you want can happen. There is much money to be made," he said to me with a smile. He touched a finger to my cheek and then traced it over to my lips. 

"You want that, little one? You want to be like me someday?" he poked his finger into my mouth and I sucked at it with a nod. 

+++++

Dinner gathered the large family around a circular dining table with 12 chairs. Mr. Hamad had laid out for me dark blue briefs, a blue button-up dress shirt, and black pants with blue socks and dark leather shoes. I admired myself in the mirror and brushed my blonde hair to the side. I came out from the closet and was surprised to see him wearing a nearly identical outfit. The clothes fit me well, but they were snug on him. I was sure it was intentional to show off his muscles and remind me he was the stronger of us. 

I followed Mr. Hamad into the dining room and saw Emerson sitting with empty chairs on one side of the table. On the other side of him, an older man who looked like he might be Mr. Hamad's father rose and smiled at me. He came towards me and pulled me towards him by my hand. He kissed my right cheek and then the left. "Welcome," he said with a warm smile. His dark eyes sparkled like his son's, and there was a look in them that seemed to say, "You are important to me." 

"This is my father," Mr. Hamad said to me. "Dr. Hamad." 

"It's nice to meet you sir," I said, bowed slightly, and shook his hand. 

Next up was a smaller version of Mr. Hamad who was toned but not nearly as built as his brother. It was Zaid. I recognized him from the pictures in the file. He came towards me wearing a tight, soft pink polo shirt that showed his slim, toned body. He got close and looked up at me and then down, appraising my worth. 

"I'm surprised, Samir," he said to Mr. Hamad in the same deep Arab tone of his brother without taking his eyes off of me. "You usually go for the weaker boys. He is more someone I would choose for myself." He reached for my biceps, squeezed them, and gave an appreciative nod. 

"Nice to... to meet you, sir," I stammered trying to stumble through introductions as he continued to appraise me. He moved behind me then and I felt his eyes on my ass. A second later I felt his hand. I jumped to the side and he laughed at me. 

"That's quite enough, Zaid," Mr. Hamad pulled me protectively into his chest. I inhaled his cologne and felt his warm breath on my neck. 

"Oh, the new baby already needs daddy's protection? Now it makes sense. Muscle jock on the outside, daddy's little fag on the in. I thought as much. Still cute though," I heard him laugh behind me. 

Mr. Hamad started to say something to him in Arabic. It sounded harsh, but something inside of me snapped. I pushed off from Mr. Hamad's warm, comforting chest and turned back to Zaid. "I can defend myself, but I was raised to be a polite guest in someone's home. If you step outside with me, we can see who needs protection." 

I felt Mr. Hamad's arm slide across my chest and he pushed the air out of my lungs as he pulled me forcefully back into his arms. "Settle, boy," he whispered angrily in my ear and then bit at it softly. It wasn't a suggestion. I nodded and looked away from Zaid who smiled mockingly as though he had gotten what he wanted from me. He walked away. 

Zaid sat opposite me and two muscle-bound men who looked to be twins and wore matching blue polo shirts came in and sat on either side of him. They took turns kissing him passionately and he kept checking to see that I was watching. 

I turned to Emerson who signed to ask what happened. I signed back nothing, I was ok. He signed that Zaid liked to shock, especially when he thought he could get a big reaction. Looking at him, so beautiful and graceful. It made me feel shame that I'd let Zaid get me upset in front of him. I offered him a half smile and he started to return it but got distracted as the twin boys came in begging for their father's attention with their caretaker in tow. I felt embarrassed as I calmed down. 

Mr. Hamad kept my hand firmly gripped in his lap under the table. He massaged my hand in his. It felt patronizing, like he needed to calm his out of control boy. I wanted out of there. I wanted my hand back. Then strangely I got lost picturing Emerson pushed against the wall with my cock pounding him from behind. He was so beautiful and made me feel so strong. I was no one's little fag. I suddenly felt really uncomfortable in Mr. Hamad's hold. 

The last to arrive was Ali. His pictures didn't do him justice. He was the leader of the siblings, the tallest, strongest, and most charming. He entered the room and everyone changed. Zaid straightened up and stopped trying to get my attention. My Mr. Hamad, who everyone called by his first name, Samir, sat up taller and squeezed my hand with traces of anxiety. Perhaps he was worried how his out of control boy would look to his older brother. I thought of my own older brothers and my constant need to prove I could keep up. 

He had on an expensive suit and carried a leather workcase in one hand. He must have rushed from some meeting, anxious to get home to Emerson and his little family. My heart sank as I took him in. 

Of course Emerson would have the best of the pack, the strongest of the herd. I had a weird mix of emotions as his dark eyes found me, the newest addition. He offered a warm smile, but quickly passed me by. Every stride flexed the stonework that built his tall frame. He stretched that dress shirt's every thread as he passed me and went to kiss Emerson. He lifted his children then, one in each arm and they adoringly settled into his chest. He hugged them and danced a few swings before setting them back in their chairs. 

Next up was my Mr. Hamad who rose as his brother called, "Samir, my brother, welcome home." Ali enveloped him in a warm hug that shrouded him in the protection of the alpha. Samir straightened up as tall as he could. He fought to meet his brother's height. They released after kisses to each other's cheeks. 

"This is my boy, Lincoln," he said waving a hand towards me with a beaming smile. 




Lincoln's Pride Ch. 05



"Of course," Ali towered over me and I quickly rose to my feet. "I have heard all about you. Welcome. I hope this will be a warm home for you. You are welcome in our family," Ali spoke through a more pronounced accent than his brothers. Mr. Hamad had said he didn't like spending much time in the English speaking world, but that he was fluent when he needed to be. 

I extended my hand towards him, but he brought me in for a hug and kissed my forehead. I felt my switch flip again as he covered me in a blanket of muscles, a soft shirt, expensive cologne. My heart gave a little flutter at that. I alternated between jealousy that he had Emerson and jealousy that Emerson had him. I didn't know which side was winning and either way I wasn't in the mix. 

He let me go and we settled in to eat. Mr. Hamad again took my left hand and brought it back to his lap as some servants came and set plates of food in front of us. It seemed like everyone had their own individual things though not much of it was identifiable except for what looked like roasted chicken or duck or some kind of white meat in front of me. 

Mr. Hamad let go of my hand to begin on his food. He looked over at me with a smile and a raised eyebrow as though he wanted my confirmation that it looked good. I looked away and began to take my hand back from his thigh. I took a few bites of everything on the plate, but honestly I was too preoccupied with my own thoughts, my strange attractions, my repulsion to Zaid, my worry that perhaps his appraisal of my need for Mr. Hamad might have been accurate. Was I his little fag? Was that the role I had slowly crept into? 

"Eat, Lincoln, everyone else is nearly finished," he said quietly and put an arm around my back. I started to lean into him like my body wanted, but then I looked at Zaid who smiled that obnoxious grin. I pulled away from him and pushed his arm off of me. 

I turned back to my food and tried to start forcing it down. I still didn't know what it was, but I just chewed and swallowed until most of it was gone. I set my fork down and looked over at Emerson taking turns helping his boys as Ali sipped a glass of wine and looked over them appreciatively. I looked at Dr. Hamad playing on his tablet, occasionally scanning the table to ensure his boys were all enjoying themselves. 

And then I looked at my Mr. Hamad, making conversation with his brothers in between sips of wine. He turned to me with a worried look and reached to brush my blonde hair away from my forehead. I jerked back and looked towards the doorway. 

"Well I think this little one is ready for bed," Mr. Hamad said lightly and put his hand on the back of my neck with a fatherly squeeze. 

"He's had a very long day, I'm sure," Dr. Hamad said to permit our leave, "Sleep well, little one." I turned towards him and saw his gentle smile. I nodded and returned it. 

"Thank you sir. Goodnight, everyone," I stood and Mr. Hamad rose with me and pushed me quickly towards the door. 

+++++

"He's wrong about me," I fumed when Mr. Hamad touched in the code to close the door to his quarters behind us. "I'm not a fag! I don't want to be that! He's wrong!" I gathered my breath and finally let my eyes meet his. 

"I know, sweet boy. He didn't mean that. Zaid says the most hurtful thing he can think of to a straight boy, especially one he thinks is proud and overconfident. He does it to get in your head. You may be disgusted by him, but his opinion starts to matter to you. It's a control move. He does it to slowly destroy a man until his opinion is all you care about. He loves the challenge. He wants you desperate for his approval until you find yourself doing things you don't even like. It's just his game," Mr. Hamad insisted. 

"That's sick. And what's your game, sir? What do you want of me?" I backed against the cold, stone wall. He turned and considered me, came closer and leaned into me, pushing me against the wall. His arms slid around my back and a hand pushed up under my shirt, touching my skin. I smelled his cologne again, the one he had bought because I liked it. It reminded me he had allowed me to mark him. His warm bundle of muscles wrapped around me and felt confused, desperate to hold me. 

"I know it's a shock to be away from everyone you love, but I'm your family here, Lincoln," he whispered as he kissed my ear. "I'll guide you through this if you let me in. I'll help you find things you love and guide you to make choices you can be proud of. You must learn to not give control over so easily. Now he knows what buttons to push with you. And look, you danced like a puppet for him." He pushed harder into me, arching my back as he kissed down my neck and buried his lips in between the neck of my shirt. 

"You must learn control," he restated as he continued to work my body into a lost frenzy. 

"No... I didn't... wait... I'm not a... not gay, ok?" I said half-heartedly. I tried pushing him away, but he held me tighter and my resolve was breaking under the ripples of happy his lips produced on my skin. 

"Ok, little cub, whatever you want," he kissed down and popped each button on my shirt with his teeth. I lost my breath when he hit somewhere near my belly button as my body started to melt in his arms. My body bucked a few times in quick involuntary motions. He looked up at me with those perfect white teeth and round soft, brown lips. 

And then my feet were in the air, he tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried me across the room. He said something in Arabic and the lights dimmed to black. Another command and soft blue lights glowed from around the bed like a landing strip. Music came over speakers in the corners and a soft thumping beat filled the room. 

I was staring down towards the floor, my head just above his ass. Plump cheeks muscled and flexed as he moved across the room. I felt guilty for even thinking about his brother. I had all I could handle with this one. He had opened my shirt with his lips and now in the inverted position, it slipped off and onto the floor. 

He got to the bed and pulled on my legs until I slid back over his shoulders and faced him. He held onto my ass and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He sat down on the bed, bringing me to his lap. His lips found mine and he rested me on his thighs as his tongue explored my mouth. 

"You are daddy's little straight boy, yeah?" he laughed as he pulled back from me. But I felt so safe in his arms that I knew he wasn't making fun of me. 

I sat there shirtless, straddling his lap and thinking about it as my cheeks blushed. I turned my face to the side and looked down. 

He put a hand to my cheek and turned my face to look at him again, "You're 18, you're not supposed to know what you want just yet. That's why you need a daddy like me," he said. "Don't let labels limit your pleasure. Don't let other people paint your picture." 

I nodded and put my lips an inch from his. I chewed on my lower lip for a second, thinking about what I wanted to do with him. He looked at me expectantly with a sly smile that asked what I would do to him. I pressed my lips to his and then pushed him away and he fell back against the bed. I lowered myself to him and put my hands on his biceps, pushing his arms back over his head. He let me. 

I leaned down over him and kissed on his neck like he liked to do to me. He moaned and squirmed under me, brought his hands to my back and rubbed down to cup my ass. The dress pants I wore strained to keep up with my movements. I sat up and undid the belt. He pulled at it and slid it out of the loops to help me. He reached for the button and undid it and pushed the pants down as his hands reached back and dug into my briefs. He cupped my ass as I fell back down to his chest and I felt him slide the pants and briefs down my thighs. My cock flopped out, hard and already leaking. It pulsed against his bulge which strained his pants against my thigh. 

I reached down and rubbed it, his pants were a soft, semi-shiny material. Everything he wore and dressed me in felt so expensive. I worried about the drops my cock was leaking on him. I reached for his zipper as my lips continued working on his neck. He kept his hands on my ass, squeezing and pulling at the cheeks. 

"Fuck yeah baby, you feel so good. You want daddy inside you?" He growled against my ear as he started kissing and biting on my lobe. 

I shook my head, brushing my nose against his neck. "No sir, too big," I whined in a voice that didn't sound like my own. 

"Someday, little cub. I will conquer my boy," he said confidently and poked his finger against my hole. 

I raised up off of him a little and kicked off my shoes. He sat up slightly to push my pants off and they fell to the floor followed by my briefs. I laid back down against him. I was naked and he was fully clothed with his zipper open and his cock straining the briefs he wore. 

I rolled off of him and onto my back. He sat up and ripped his shirt open. A few buttons tore and one landed on my chest as he tossed his shirt on the floor and then quickly shucked his pants and shoes. He bared his teeth at me and then winked. His dark tower of muscles over me flexed and turned so I could take him in. 

My mind flashed back to the image of me buried inside Emerson fucking him against the wall, but then quickly changed to me against the wall with Mr. Hamad doing the same to my ass. I shook off the image and looked up at him as he knelt over me and pushed at the waistband of his briefs to free that massive brown snake. It tumbled out like a firehose ready for a fight. I inhaled sharply and my body honed in on what it needed. 

He had this way of boxing me in. I was in his world and left everything outside. I could be the biggest, faggiest, neediest boy for him and crave his cock and it didn't change who I was out there. The only thing that mattered was here, in his bed, making him happy. My struggle cleared up when I saw him over me. Every other image scurried to the darkest corners of my mind. 

He gripped his thick cock at it's full length that likely could have passed a ruler's measure. He wagged it over my chest and for some reason I licked my lips. I leaned up to try to taste it. My tongue wanted its warmth. He pulled it away from me. 

"You want it, little one?" he asked. I nodded and again tried to get to it. His free hand gripped my blonde hair and he tangled it in his fingers. He held my head back, away from what I wanted. 

"You forget your manners," he reminded. I looked up past his cock which was no easy task and saw his lips pressed into a firm line that told me he meant business. 

"C'mon sir, please let me... you know... please," I started. 

He walked back down the bed on his knees, taking his cock farther away from me. He bent down and got in my face, "Please let you what? What do you want, Lincoln?" 

"I want your cock, sir, please," I said as I gathered my courage. 

"Do you even know what to do with it?" he whispered slowly, I got lost in the seductive movements of his soft, brown lips. He leaned in and rubbed the beard of his chin across my smooth cheek. "Do you want to taste me?" he growled against my ear. 

"Yes sir, please let me suck your cock," I whimpered, "Please... daddy. Make me your boy." 

"Fuck yeah, that's my baby," Mr. Hamad raised up off of me to show me his pleasure at my words. "Good baby," he beamed and then went to kiss me roughly. 

He rolled over onto his back and put a hand to the back of my head. I got up on my knees as he laid there and I looked down at him as he massaged my neck. He pushed me down to his cock as it laid, fat and full against his stomach. I hadn't sucked a cock before, but of course I'd seen it done and had it done to me. 

I put my hand on the shaft and squeezed. It was so thick my fingers barely touched as my hand wrapped around it. I pumped it a few times and watched a drop of precum form at the tip. I leaned in and lapped at it. It tasted as sweet as it had this morning. He pushed on the back of my head impatiently, pushing his cock past my lips. 

It stretched my lips as he shoved into me, holding my head with one hand and lightly face-fucking me. He didn't push in too far, just savored the action my lips and tongue gave to the head of his cock. 

Secure that I would stay on his cock, he let his hand go and turned his attention to the ass I was wiggling in the air behind me. He gripped my thighs and raised me off the bed, slid me over and rested me on his chest so my ass was dangerously close to his face. 

"My baby's beautiful pink hole," I heard him mumble and then felt his hot, wet tongue slide into me. 

"Ahhh fuck, daddy, fuck yeah," I tossed my head back off his cock and whined as his tongue worked expertly inside me. "uhhhh!" 

I felt a hand land on the back of my head, reminding me I had his cock to take care of. I pushed back against his tongue and wiggled in time to the circles he was painting inside me. His cock pushed back into my mouth and this time he drove it deeper. I started to choke and sputter on him as he pushed in too far. 

"MMMM!" I protested, but he pushed on as my throat started to gag on his massive invasion. I put my hands down against the bed and tried to push up and off his cock, but he held me there with one hand on the back of my head. He was reminding me that his muscles weren't just for show. 

Tears filled my eyes as he kept ramming his cock to my throat, pushing in just far enough to make me gag and then easing off as I scrambled to recover. He kept it up over and over again taking me to the edge of losing it and then easing off. He knew how to time it perfectly. This wasn't his first time breaking in a boy. It distracted me as he worked fingers inside my hole. 

By the time he let me off to sit up a little and wipe the snot from my nose, I felt two slick fingers inside me. A wave of pleasure hit me and I instantly forgot the mouth assault he'd just put me through. 

"Ahhhh, daddy, yeah," I sat back up and started to bounce on his fingers. "Uhh, uhh, uhh, thank you sir," I mumbled and bounced. And then my eye caught something to the side, a mirror on the wall reflecting back my shame. I saw myself there, blonde jockboy with proud muscles, quintessential Americana. There I was lost in lust straddling my dark Arab master's chest, bouncing on his fingers while he kissed my ass and poked his massive cock towards my face. 

I froze for a minute and took the sight in. He raised up to see what I was looking at. He pushed me down his body and then flipped me around to face him but kept his fingers buried in my hole. We looked at each other for a solid minute and then he smiled. 

"My beautiful baby. See how good you look submitting to Daddy?" He beamed as I nodded. He put this free hand on the back of my neck and brought me in for a kiss. 

He started ramming his fingers into me as he kissed me and bounced me in his lap. Our cocks pressed together between us as his tongue wrestled mine into submission. 

His free hand gripped my cock and his together between us as I bounced on his fingers. He was pumping our cocks together and it gave me a sense of just how much bigger and thicker his was. It covered mine on all sides. Instead of shame though, I felt strangely proud that this thick meat had chosen me. I buried my lips into his shoulder and whimpered against him as he expertly worked both sides of my coin. 

"You like Daddy inside you? You like him pumping your little boy cock?" he growled into my ear. 

"Yes sir, please fuck me. Fuck your boy," I kissed at his neck and wrapped my arms around his neck to hold on tight as he bounced me over and over. His fingers weren't just ramming me now, they were stretching, pulling apart at my hole. He did it just enough to cause a little hit of pain and then another flood of pleasure. He was so damned good at this. My body was pushed to the edge under his expert touch. 

My cock was leaking precum all over his hand and his own massive meat. I felt it building like thumping in my ear. I fought to keep my eyes open. 

"I'm going to cum, daddy," I begged, "Please let me cum." 

"Yeah baby, cum for me. Cum for daddy," he growled in that deep, measured Arab monotone. 

I started to bounce myself on him, humping at his palm. I felt the spurts building and rising up my shaft, inching up with each thrust. 

"Fuuuuuccckkkkkk," I let out one continuous yell as I started to pump hot white all over us. He let go of my cock then and used that hand to steady me and press me against his chest. The only stimulation now was his fingers ramming into me and it was more than enough. I shot in rhythm to his fingerfucks and my body shook against him as I screamed and buried my lips into his neck. 

"Mff Mff Mff," I let out as he kept ramming into me. He rubbed over that button inside me that made my whole body convulse and my eyes roll back and my toes curl. I lost complete control of my body then and it was ok. I was his. 

I finally calmed and my body fell limp against him. He slowly slipped his fingers from my hole and wiped them on a little towel on the side table. I hadn't noticed it before. It was next to a bottle labeled "Sexglyde." 

"Your pussy feels tight but ready, baby boy," Mr. Hamad said as he laid back against the bed and let me recover my breath against his chest. His arms held me tightly against him. 

"I don't have a pussy," I mumbled sleepily and then added, "sir." 

"Whatever this hole is that I've been fingerfucking... it's ready. You want Daddy inside your little boyhole?" He asked, not sounding sleepy in the least. 

"It'll hurt," I whined and bit at his furry nipple to try and distract him. 

"Life hurts, Lincoln, at least the things worth doing. But I won't hurt you too much and I promise it will feel good. Just a little, ok baby?" He said gently and rubbed my back. 

I pushed off of his chest and stared down at him. 

"Don't look so scared, baby," he smiled and brushed the hair out of my eyes. 

"You want to fuck me?" I asked. 

He nodded. "Yes, but only if you want it too. Do you still want Daddy inside you?" 

"Yes sir," I said without giving it much thought. 

He leaned up and kissed me, slipped his arms around me and rolled me over. I fell against the bed and his weight came down on me then. He quickly pushed off of me and then backed up. He took my legs and pushed them up, folding my knees against my chest. 

I held onto my legs, presenting my hole up for him. 

He reached for the bottle and lubed up his thick shaft. He brought the bottle to my hole and lifted my ass up. He squeezed a long thick stream into my hole, using as much of it as he could. I reached down then. I'd never really felt inside myself. I pushed into the wet hole causing some of the lube to leak out and down my cheek. 

"That is so fucking hot, baby boy. Poke that pussy for daddy," he laughed and stroked his cock. 

"It's not a..." I started. 

"It's whatever I want to call it," he started. He reached for his briefs on the corner of the bed and shoved them into my mouth. "Now shut up while Daddy fucks that beautiful pink hole." 

I nodded and chewed on his sweaty briefs. It was that scent I love. 

He pumped his cock a few times while I poked my finger around inside myself. I didn't know how to make it feel awesome like he could. He was impatient though and grabbed my wrist and pushed my hand away. 

I looked up at him with wide eyes as I sucked on his briefs like a pacifier. I wondered if me ending up with underwear in my mouth would be our thing. He knew how to keep me quiet though. 

He lined his cock up with my hole and pushed against it. It was so fucking tight that he barely got half the tip in. He had a thick mushroom head and the rim of it wasn't going in. 




Lincoln's Pride Ch. 05



"Ahhhh," I winced as he tried too hard to push into me. "Uhhhh!" I felt a sharp pain. 

"Ok ok, it's ok, it's ok," he rushed down to kiss me as he pushed in too hard. "I'll just keep it right here until you adjust, damn it feels so fucking good." 

We laid there together and he got me to breath as my body adjusted. 

"Ok," I said finally, inhaling more slowly now. "Ok, go sir." 

He pushed in farther and I felt a pop as the tip got in. The rim of it hit just around my pleasure points and I felt my cock stand at attention and poke against his tummy. I humped up slowly to rub it against him. 

"Hard again already! Fuck you feel so good," he laughed and shook his head. He started to slowly push in more and then I felt him tense up. 

"Oh fuck, I... Oh fuck," he started to shake over me and pulled me up tight against him. He pumped slowly in me and I felt his hard snake start to fire off inside me. I was filled with warm shots of his juice as they fired up into my gut. 

"Oh that feels awesome!" I remarked as he mumbled curse-words against my ear. 

"Fuck baby, mmmmm uhhhhh!" He only had an inch or so of his cock in me. There was so much more to go, but his body couldn't hold off. My body shook with him as he filled me with his cream. 

"Fuck, baby yeah baby fuck that pussy, so good," He yelled and started to push deeper into me as his cock shook and fired inside me. 

I quickly became aware of the pain as he pushed into me faster than my hole could accommodate. 

"NO! NO! NO! OWWW!" I started yelling from under him but he was lost in orgasm and his primal instinct enjoyed my struggle. 

"Please!" I begged, "Please daddy stop!" I started to cry and my fists beat at his chest until he woke up out of his zombiegasm. 

"Oh, Oh shit, baby," He froze and held me there. He tried to slowly ease out of me. 

"There, stop there, please, don't move," I cried and tried to breathe. 

"Ok ok," he fumbled. "It's ok baby. Breathe with me." 

We did, he held me there until our breathing calmed things. I felt his hard cock start to shrink inside me. It didn't get smaller, but it got more flexible. We calmed until he was able to slip out of me. 

"That's it, baby," He said and rolled over onto his back, bringing me with him. I settled into his chest as his hands rubbed my back and his warm breath brushed my cheek. 

"My good boy," he remarked. "That hole felt too good. I couldn't last. Something about a new hole with a beautiful boy. Nothing better," He rubbed me as sleep overcame me.

"Sleepy boy. You feel better?" He asked. 

"Yes sir, just too much too soon." I said. 

We laid there recovering and napped for an hour or so. We woke up later in the dark room. It was still nighttime and he took me to shower. He cleaned me, holding me up sleepily against his chest. We dried each other and fell asleep naked together under his thick comforter. 

+++++

"Baby," he said with a kiss to my forehead that awoke me. Once again I had my head on his chest, with his nipple on my lips. 

"Yes sir?" I stirred but didn't move from his warm embrace. 

"School starts today. We have to get you down to workout and then get ready for school." He said. 

"School? Like a school school?" I asked realizing we hadn't discussed my education much. 

"Yes, your classes start today. You have Arabic language and culture classes. You'll learn how our culture works and each week you'll learn how to cook something for me from my culture. They will teach you how to make a nice home too." He said. 

I thought back to what Emerson had told me about Mr. Hamad, whom he called Samir, wanting what his brother wanted. Someone to come home to and raise his children is what he had said. Was this part of his preparations for that? Was this me learning how to take care of him and provide the home he wanted? That wasn't me. That wasn't what I wanted. 

But I was too sleepy to argue right now. Right now I needed his arms around me and his heartbeat in my ear. 

++++

Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you thought.



Lincoln's Pride Ch. 06



"This will let my baby have me when he needs me," he said when he strapped the square watch to my wrist. "It's a camera so I can always see and hear what you're doing." He slid his phone to active and then hit an app that instantly popped up a camera view from my wrist. I saw my face staring back at me on his phone. I smiled at myself awkwardly. 

"Now, if you need me you just hit the side button." He pointed to the watch face which now displayed the time. On the side was a little button and when I hit it his phone vibrated and a little window popped up saying "Lincoln needs you." He turned his head and whispered into his phone. It came out through the watch, "Yes, my heart? What do you need?" 

"Wow, sir. That's... wow," I smiled at him feeling a mix of being ready to strike out on my own a little and already missing him. He leaned over and kissed my smile, bringing his face to my cheek to cup it adoringly.

"I always keep up with my boy. When you need me, I am here. With this, I can see that my boy is focusing in his classes and no one is bothering him," he beamed proudly and seemed to sense my slight anxiety. 

"Thank you, sir," Something inside me felt special that he cared so much. No one had looked out for me like that before. 

We were parked in front of a shiny glass three story building where I would take my classes. It was attached to the university, but it was its own private offering for foreigners taking language classes and houseboys learning to take care of Arab men. He told me all about it on the way there and even gave me a brochure though it was in Arabic. It showed blonde boys like me in navy blue uniforms preparing meals, making beds, sitting in classes with Arab instructors. 

The blonde boys always looked so focused, happy to be learning to serve. I wasn't sure I would get into the houseboy parts, but he explained that it is about learning the lifestyle of the world's elite. It wasn't focused on becoming gay. I'm not gay. 

He pretended to fix the color of my navy blue polo shirt with the school's logo on the chest. It was a bit tight and hugged my pecs, so were the blue pants, but it covered me. He gave me one last kiss and I was reassured by the cologne he wore for me as it filled my nose and warmed my chest. We got out and he met me at the sidewalk, pressing a button on his key that made the car chirp securely. 

Inside the large glass doors he stopped me for a second and brought me in for a last hug. It felt like he was sending me off for good. With his lips close to my ear, he said, "I know you will be frustrated for the first week, it is ok. They know what they're doing here. It's all part of becoming successful, learning our ways. Don't think about the day to day or the menial tasks you'll be instructed to do. Think about me and making me proud, becoming my boy I can take around the world and mold into success. Ok, little one? Think before you act. You represent me here. You carry my name." 

"Yes sir," I nodded uneasily, unsure of what was to come. He slipped my backpack up my arm and over my shoulder with one last squeeze to my bottom. 

"Be good and do as you are told. If you need me, for whatever reason, even just to say hi. If you need me, press the button." He pushed past me then and I followed him to the reception desk. He spoke with the man behind the counter in Arabic and a few seconds later a tall, dark man appeared at my side. He wore an expensive shirt like the one Mr. Hamad had on. He was older, maybe 40, but in awesome shape. He had at least 6-8 inches on my height and his imposing frame made me feel small. 

He greeted Mr. Hamad warmly as though I weren't there and then sent him on his way to work. I turned and watched as he left through the glass doors with one last warm, hopeful look at me. I swallowed hard and instantly felt loss as he slipped out into the sunshine. 

"Don't waste time, boy. There is much to learn here and I don't want to hear English," I heard the man say. 

"I'm Lincoln, sir," I said with a smile and offered my hand but he didn't take it. 

He came in uncomfortably close and I was hit with the scent of his natural, unshowered body. He had thick fur on his bulging arms and a look of disdain for me. "No, you are boy and I am sir and your English ends now. If you can't speak to me in Arabic then it is best to keep silent," he growled. I felt myself shrink into his shadow and felt my heart pounding in my ears. 

"Yes... sir," I said and that was not the right answer. He roughly grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me forward towards a door. He started walking and pushed me along impatiently. 

"Taharruk!" he said several times insistently. I guessed it meant let's go because he kept pushing me towards a doorway. This wasn't in the brochure. 

He shoved me towards the door and then pushed it open for me. I nearly fell through it, but caught myself on the wall. I went through a hallway and then into a little classroom where two equally scared blonde boys sat in desks. 

We looked at each other, each with faces of "What the fuck?" The man pushed me down into a desk beside them and roughly slipped off my backpack. He barked something at me in the language I didn't know and then opened my backpack and took out a notebook and a nice pen. He slapped it down in front of me and said something else and then walked away. 

"What's going on?" I said to the blonde guy to my right when the man had left. He turned to me and said something in another foreign language I didn't understand. I guessed I was the only American. 

"I Anders," he said, trying English, and offered me his hand lightly. 

"Lincoln," I said back, pointing to my chest as though speaking caveman and then shook his hand. I pumped it firmly and he winced. Maybe I needed to feel bigger than I was with the teacher. 

"You very cute," he said and nodded with twinkling blue eyes as blush spread over his pale cheeks. 

"Um thanks," I muttered and took my hand back. He was ok looking, sickly thin, not beautiful. I imagined the fat, older oaf of a man who must have ended up with him. If he had been anything resembling my Mr. Hamad, this Anders wouldn't be fawning for my attention. 

I found supplies in my backpack. Two beautiful wood pencils sharpened for surgery, a brass pen with Mr. Hamad's name in script, and a black notebook with thick suede covers and a steel spiral. The front cover had my name scripted in gold print. 

"Lincoln Karsten" 

It was like someone had gone to a back-to-school sale at a palace. Inside the notebook was a note from Mr. Hamad folded neatly and sealed with a little gold sticker. I was pretty sure it was actual gold with his initials, "S.H." The note read: 

"Sweet one. Make me proud. It will be hard, but you can do this. You are smarter than you think, and loved more than you understand." 

His handwriting was from another time; beautiful, practiced script. I unfolded it completely, split the seal sticker in half and used it to tape the note to the inside back cover of the notebook. 

I turned to see Anders checking it out and I closed the notebook quickly and shot him a glare. His lips spread into a thin line with a twinge of guilt in his eyes. This was not for him to see. What Mr. Hamad and I shared wasn't for anyone else. 

The instructor returned then and saw us turned towards each other. He barked angrily then and smacked the top of my desk. I jumped a little in my seat and we both faced the front. 

The next few hours were him barking at us in Arabic. Not much made sense. He showed pictures of a kitchen and pointed things out to us and then had us repeat the words for fridge, stove, microwave, "Thalaja, muqid, mojadisugra," or something like that. Apparently I was doing better than the other two because he yelled at me less. We went through all kinds of household items and I struggled to take notes. 

++++++ 

When we broke for lunch, the man led us like a chain gang into the university campus. He got us plates of bland salad and had us sit in different groups of Arab students. Anders sat with what looked like the math club, weak little guys with vests and glasses. The other guy sat with what looked like a club of chunky video gamers. My group was some kind of sports team. I was put directly in the middle of their group and though they had impressive muscles, they smelled like they hadn't yet discovered deodorant. 

I expected them to be freaked out a little by having me plopped down in their midst, but they looked like they were used to this routine. The guy next to me was a little shorter and not as built as I was, but seemed to be the leader of this pack. They talked to me in Arabic until the instructor, "Sir," walked away. 

"That prick is intense," said the guy next to me in a thick Arab accent with surprisingly good English. "I'm Khalid. Mr. Hamad chose me to lead your practice in the afternoons. I interned with his company the last two semesters. I won't be like Mr. Bashir, your morning instructor. He's intense. You play football?" 

He had on a grey tank top and blue adidas workout pants with a pricy looking pair of gym shoes. The tank showed off his torso which wasn't exactly built, but his toned, almond skin showed he must have made it to the gym most days. He had thick black hair across his chest that matched the black swoosh of gelled hair on top of his head. He had a thick silver chain around his neck with a little crescent dangling between his pecs. 

"I'm Lincoln, and no, but I did play baseball back in California," I offered and picked at the lettuce on my plate. 

"Yes, I saw that in your file," Khalid noted as his big brown eyes flashed a smile at me. "Your photo set was most revealing as well!" 

"I... uh... Oh god," I laughed nervously as he winked at me showing Mr. Hamad had likely included the full naked shots he took the day he hired me. 

"Don't worry, it was just for my eyes," he nodded to the rest of the group. He put a hand on my shoulder and though he was smaller and weaker than me, the power Mr. Hamad had in his touch flowed through his hand. 

My new watch interrupted us. Mr. Hamad's voice in Arabic flowed through it and Khalid grabbed my wrist. He brought it up towards his face and gave a wave, answering Mr. Hamad in Arabic. The two of them laughed. I sat there lost between the exchange. I didn't know what they were saying, but it attracted the attention of Khalid's friends at the table and they didn't look at me respectfully. I looked down at my salad and tried to ignore them. 

"I can tell he is going to be a very good boy, right, boy?" Khalid said and brought my wrist back in front of me. I saw Mr. Hamad smiling at me from the watch face. 

"You will, little one. I know you will make me proud," he said and offered me a hopeful smile. 

I nodded, feeling like a total ass. I didn't know what this was all about, but I felt like a pet dog dropped off at the daycamp. 

"Use your words, little one," Mr. Hamad said with a suddenly stern look. "My boy will make me proud." There wasn't a question in his tone. 

"Yes... sir," I said feeling my stomach turn. I looked over at Khalid who had a smile like he'd just won a fight. He had plans for me. He was small enough for me to pummel easily. I could wipe that look off his face and show them I wasn't the hungry little fag they were describing. 

But then I looked back at Mr. Hamad from my wrist and I knew this was part of my training. I also knew I really wanted back in his arms tonight to continue what he'd started on last night. I had to trust that this had a purpose. He did want to help me grow. "I will make you proud, sir." 

"I know baby boy. I have a meeting now, but I will be there to check your progress in two hours. I promise. Be good for Khalid," He said and then tapped something to turn off the video. The watch went back to telling the time. 13:30. 

"Eat your boy food, little one," Khalid said to me with a smug grin to see how far he could push me. He nudged the salad towards me with a raised eyebrow. 

"Dude, c'mon. That's my thing with him. Not with you," I said tilting my head to the side with pleading smile so I didn't have to see anyone but him. 

"Dude?" he said. His look turned serious and he gave my shoulder a squeeze. "Link, my boy, I pretty much own you for the afternoon, and I have a lot to teach you before he comes. Now eat your salad like a good little boy... or do you want to go back to Mr. Bashir, the morning instructor. He's not nearly as nice, especially when his lunch is interrupted." 

I turned back to my salad, keeping my eyes down. I hadn't realized how quiet the table of guys had gotten. I felt their eyes on me, watching to see if Khalid had power over the much larger blonde guy. 

And he did. I thought about Mr. Hamad being upset with me if I embarrassed him here. Sometimes you have to sacrifice to get better things later. I knew when I got home he would reward me for letting Khalid be the big dick in front of his friends. I took a few bites of the bland salad and kept my eyes down. Soon the table returned to conversation in Arabic. 

I felt Khalid's hand on my back. We were sitting with the wall behind us so no one could see as he worked his hand around the waist of my uniform pants. He groped at my ass and I flinched, but kept eating without looking up. 

"You want a bite, Lincoln?" he asked in a friendly tone and the smell of salty goodness hit my nose. I looked up and saw him holding a thick potato wedge in front of me. I thought it was a peace offering so I reached for it. 

"Thanks," I said, but he pulled it back. 

"When an Arab man offers food to your face, the correct response is not to reach for it. It is not how things are done here," he started. I lowered my hand back to the table. 

"It is not an offer of food. It is an offer to feed you, a sign that he will take care of your needs. Let him provide and show your appreciation like a good little boy," he said and brought it to my lips. I looked around the table and saw five faces staring at me. The light-skinned muscled guy across from me licked his lips thoughtlessly. 

"You say please sir. Or if with Mr. Hamad you say 'yarja baba,' please daddy. It will show you know your place. You bring him pride by showing you know your place," Khalid said gently. "You should speak to me as though I am him. It will be good to practice on me." 

"Yarja baba," I whispered. 

He pressed the potato through my lips and all the way to the back towards my throat. I gagged a little, but started to bite it. He pulled it back with a smile and then forced it in again. I trapped it this time with my teeth and he let go. I turned away from the group and chewed it up. 

"Now, shukraan baba, thank you, daddy," he said. 

"Shukraan baba," I said as I swallowed. 

"That's good. Let's go now. We are due in the gym in 5 minutes. Leave the trays. Follow me," Khalid said and stood. I stood next to him and our size difference became apparent once again. He was about Zaid's height, but he seemed completely unfazed looking up at me. He put a hand to my shoulder and turned me towards the door and then walked ahead. 

"Mr. Hamad will teach you how to be a business man in your own right. However, Lincoln, you must know that white boys are always below us," Khalid said as I followed him across a courtyard of intricate blue tile and around a babbling fountain. 

"You are tall, strong, and," he paused and turned to me, "Honestly you know you are beautiful. Sun-kissed hair, eyes like the ocean, a body like ancient art... and that ass," he turned me slightly and gave it a squeeze, "You are truly a gift of nature, Lincoln. There are many here who would do business with you just to afford the time taking you in. I can see why Mr. Hamad chose you. Your spirit is calm, your face is the picture of sweet, naive, American innocence... What was I... saying?" Khalid smiled, lost in his praise of my physique with his hand firmly cupping my ass. I felt him press against my leg with a massive bulge in his workout pants. 

"That I am below you," I laughed thinking he must have some dark fantasies about me going on in his head. 

"Yes," he continued walking towards a glass door without catching the irony. "You must not allow yourself to be filled up with all of the adoration you will receive. That is how many boys like you get ruined here. They forget that first and foremost your value lies in your submission to us, your devotion to your lion. A loyal cub is worth everything. I have watched boys with half your looks be spoiled by their lions until they are disrespectful brats who must be put away quietly elsewhere." 

We went through the glass doors and I followed up three flights of stairs to another hallway. At the end was a private room the size of a standard double garage. The walls were mirrors except for one side which was all glass looking out over the dry mountains. There was a scale, sets of free weights, two treadmills, and a few other cardio machines. One corner had yoga mats and a cabinet. 

"This should be stocked for us. I expected you to be smaller," Khalid began as he moved towards the cabinet. "Go ahead and strip, I think these clothes will still work for you." 

He pulled out a small pile of clothes and set them on the weight bench. He turned to me and instantly frowned seeing I was still standing there. 

"Do you need assistance?" he said mockingly. "You can't workout in your learning uniform. Put these on." 

I took a step towards him and looked at the clothes. I held up a small blue jockstrap with an oddly small pouch, a grey tank top that was size small, and blue stretchy shorts that would barely cover my ass. I slid off my shirt and realized he was doing the same. He already looked prepared for a workout. 

I folded my shirt and then went to take off my shoes. I set the shoes against one wall and put my shirt on top of them. I unbuttoned my pants and slid them off, folding them nicely as well. I turned to him in my blue briefs and saw he was already completely naked. 

"Woah, fuck," I said without thinking as I slid my briefs to my ankles. Khalid had the biggest cock I'd ever seen. It was soft but fat and snaked down past a set of huge egg-shaped balls. His cock was two shades darker than the rest of him and thicker than a boa constrictor. It made it look even more foreign against his smaller frame. 

"You will get used to us, little one," Khalid laughed and his eyes looked at my soft cock. I covered it with my hands feeling completely insufficient. 

"No need for shame, Lincoln. No one here expects you to measure up to us. It would be a medical anomaly if you did!" Khalid laughed. He came towards me, swinging the arab club as he picked up the jockstrap and held it to me. "This should work. I got a boy's size so it stays on you." He didn't seem to be joking. 

I stepped into it and pulled it up my legs. The pouch barely covered my cock and balls, my blonde pubes poked out of the sides. It was tight, but stretchy and I felt somewhat secure. I finished dressing as I watched him wrestle his monster into his own well-stretched red jockstrap. It poked out obscenely like he'd smuggled a Big Mac. 

I couldn't take my eyes off of it as I slid up the too small shorts. They cupped my package and had this built in support under it that lifted and displayed it. I paid it little attention though as he sat on the weight bench and tied his shoes. He made no move to put on anything other than the jockstrap. 

I unthinkingly licked my lips as he turned and squatted on the floor to fold his clothes into a small pile. His dark ass spread in two perfect bubbles as I slipped on the tight tank top that showed off my chest. His ass was smooth with a small patch of hair creeping up the center. 

I got caught up thinking about how I'd look pumping him full of my thick, white cock in that squatted position. I'd make him bounce on it while I sucked at his smooth, perfect skin. That fat Arab snake would bounce in the stretched jock every time I drove deep inside him. He'd beg me for all of it as I showed him I was most definitely not beneath him.