Sedona Visitor

By: Maze Walker ([email protected])

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[GAY] [TESTICLES] Other:


 This is the 2nd story for the internet. If readers like it I have 
many more, and will finish this one. This is about a young eunach 
from the world of magic. I have been inspired to write from reading 
this web page, especially Ganymede. He is more talented than most 
published writers today.

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	My dogs were frantically digging at the cabin door. I turned
away from my word processor which I was still setting up,
stumbled over several unpacked boxes to get to the screen door
and see what was agitating my dogs. I moved as cautionly as I
could considering the mess the movers and I had made on the
floor. Foolishly I had tossed the dogs outside to get them out of
the way. I sensed that they were not alone out there. Not being a
native of North Central Arizona. and the Sedona area; in my
imagination I saw an animal that transformed it’s self from
mountainl ion, to coyote,  to a bear with the wings of a turkey
vulture, or golden eagle. I had allowed my two greyhounds to
explore the wooded lot surrounding my new home, I carelessly had
put them in jeopardy.
	I was here trying to escape the bitter after affects of
death, not lose something else dear into it’s arcane jaws. I
thought about ripping boxes to quickly find a weapon. As I
wondered what I could improvise for one the dogs calmed down. Now
they were barking in a friendly manor. Perhaps they were bringing
home another dog.
	My real-estate agent had informed me that my closest
neighbors, a mile or so away were a communal group of wiccas. I
didn’t give it too much though, a group of witched would add
color to the neighborhood, and wasn’t this Sedona, home of
magnetic ley lines, artists, mystics, and kooks like me. I had
come here to write, not to socialize, I thought to myself as I
reached the door. Taking a deep breathe I looked out at ponderosa
pine, and scrubgrass without seeing the misty bodies of my dogs.
I could still hear them. Suddenly they were looping towards me ,
chased from the back of the house by a creature, their new friend
I supposed. As it came closer I saw the creature was running on
two legs. I saw a shock of auburn hair, and a slight body adorned
by a torn tee-shirt, and cut off jeans.
	“Hey Mister, are these your dogs?”, the child enquired.
	“Yes Miss., they do seem to like you.”
	The expressive child laughed at me, jumped up on the front
porch with a smirk of mischief on the otherwise exquisite face.
	“I’m not a girl,” going over to shake my hand like one much
older might do the child continued; “My name is Tas, everyone
thinks I’m a female because I live with so many women. They won’t
let me cut my hair you know. They say it will diminish my power,
kind of like Samson.”
	Not knowing how to respond to him I said, “I like your hair,
but it can’t be comfortable all tangled up with twigs, why don’t
you wear it back in a ponytail? Then it won’t get in your way.”
	It was the river of hair running down his back that had
confused me as to his gender. It looked like it had never been
cut.
	“How do you know?” he questioned
	“I used to wear my hair like that back in college?”
	“Were you a hippie, or something?”
	“Sort of,” I found my self thinking for a moment of those
days in Berkley when Jim and I first had met. “Believe it or not
I just unpacked some elastics that I use to wrap up extra
computer cord. I’ll get you one.”
	I went into the cabin and returned with a red and gold band.
The child was sitting on the step waiting for me.
	“Would you make the ponytail for me?” the boychild got up
and leaned close to me caressing my arm.
	Was this strange being so innocent or was he unbelievably
trying to make a pass? I felt strongly overpowered by his crisp
empowering scent like creosol after a rain. I had the most
irrational though of reaching over and crushing him against me. I
could see the boyishness through the feminine beauty of this
little temptress, and I was trying very hard to suppress feelings
that were pushing me out of my dormant state. I quickly needed
some distance to analyze the situation. I was getting too many
cross signals from this little vixen.
	“I’ll have to get a hairbrush.”
	Fortunately my bedroom had been unpacked and set up so I
went in to put some distance between me and the hot intense
little body that was increasingly snuggling closer. As I should
have guessed he followed me inside.
	He sat on the foot of my bed as I hunted for my brush. I
found it and daringly went over, I couldn’t seem to help myself.
I started to stroke his hair. That was a mistake! His hair was so
incredibly soft and beautiful. Red sparks of light like rich
sherry. I lifted it up and gently started to take out the
greenery caught in the silky locks. I could see his face
reflected in the mirror. Bright blue-green eyes dancing around
the room. He stopped to stare at the picture on my bureau. The
solitary photograph that had been taken a year ago in Spain. It
was a sunny portrait of my lover Jim, and I on the beach. Jim had
leukemia and had died five months ago. In the community everyone
thought it was AIDS. It was almost an affront to try and suggest
that a gay man can die of anything, just like everyone else.
	Tas stood up and looked closer at the picture. 
	“You know, he’s with us now. I can sense him. Is his name
Jim? He designed computer games, didn’t he? He tells me that he
wants me to make you happy.”
	Getting Goosebumps, I dropped the hairbrush. “How old are
you, Tas?”
	“Don’t worry, I’m legal, I’m 18. He tells me that you are a
worrier.”
	Tas didn’t look much older than 12. “Stop trying to cast a
spell on me or whatever you think you’re doing. You shouldn’t lie
about your age. You act like a 12 year old, and you look about
10.”
	“You think so, because you really don’t know me. How long
were you and Jim lovers?”
	“I’m hardly going to discuss that with a child.” He was
provoking me to my limit.
	“Jim tells me that it was ten years, and you were faithful
too, we would be good for each other.”
	I caught my breathe. “You my friend as irresistible as you
might be would be jailbait for me.”
	“I told you that I’m older than I look. I’m sick of being
patronized. Why are we wasting time talking.”
	I couldn’t believe him! I was being seduced by a feral
child. He turned around to me and started to rub his fingers
against my groin. His small strong fingers pressed hard against
the fabric of my pants. This was quickly getting intense. I
backed away, very aroused but afraid where we were quickly going. 
	I stupidly said, “I truly need to see your drivers license
or something.”
	“Where the hell would I put my license. besides I don’t need
an ID to prove my age to you, just look!”
	At that he spun around and unhitched his cut offs. When He
turned again once more I was looking at a beautiful diminutive
uncut penis. It sat as lonely as I had felt for the last months
from it’s lack of companion balls. The young man was a eunuch. I
could feel myself quickly rising to salute him, and his
phenomenal beauty. What he lacked in front he more than made up
for behind as I soon was to learn.
	As I pulled him down into my bed falling headfirst into his
mystery I touched his lone silken genitalia.
	“Why do you look so childlike, is it because you were
gelded?” I still didn’t believe that he was 18, but I could no
longer resist him. Like most contemporary men I saw transvestites
on talk shows, and in female impersonator Vegas reviews, but I
wondered how many of them were actual eunuchs. Tas must have been
cut very young which added to his mystery. Before he could answer
I had another question for him. I wanted to know everything about
him.
	“How old were you when it happened? Did the witches do it to
you?”
	He laughed at me. “I was very young when it happened. I
almost died, the witches were the ones who saved me. They had
nothing to do with this.” He took my hand and placed it beneath
his penis where I could feel the faint ridge of a scar.
	“Well, are you going to tell me,” I shouldn’t be asking him
this. I should just take the gifts he was offering.
	He was wiser than me. “Maybe when I get to know you better.
You won’t believe me if I tell you now. Besides, I can think of
other things to be doing.”
	With that he stopped using his mouth for talking, and found
out how delightful it could be used in other ways. I would be
some time longer before I would hear his strange
story................To be continued

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