Study of a Master's Heart

NONE ENTERED BY AUTHOR

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He rarely smiled, except sometimes when he heard music wafting 
through the air.  His yellowish cat-like eyes were often distant on 
some preocuppying thought and, sitting in the corner of some drinking 
house his shoulder-length wheat colored hair would caress the fine 
features of his face, a figure who--although sitting in an obscure 
corner--stood out from the dark haired and dark eyed Indian people 
all around him.  

  It was then that when finally his eyes seemed to become aware of 
the world around him and his brow furrowed, the world around him 
seemed to hold still.  People paused in conversation and some stopped 
in mid stride, for it was not often that one would see emotion 
displayed on this strangers face.  His jaw dropped slowly as if in 
awe and then all of a sudden he stood, his eyes fixed on a figure 
before him.  

   He was staring down at a thirteen year old serving boy that had 
just recently began working there serving saki to the customers and a 
strong fermented drink of goat milk.  Everyone turned to look at the 
serving boy who, now aware of all the eyes, stopped and turned with 
the jug of alcohol in his hands, his lips pouted and a frown forming 
on his brow.

   "Get me the owner of the drinking house," the tall yellow-eyed 
stranger said.  The other workers hesitated, unsure of what to do, 
and then the boy began to leave. "No! Not you," he said, "you stay 
here, someone else get me the owner--Quickly now!"  Immediately a 
group of servants rushed to a flight of stairs and some stopped as 
two others ran up to get the owner.  

   The man sat back down and lifted a hand, gesturing to the boy to 
get closer.  The boy hesitated for a moment and then approached him, 
placing the jug of alcohol on the table beside him.  The man leaned 
forward to look closely at the boys face.  "What's your name?"  he 
asked.

    "Lalan, sir," he said inspecting the man's face just as close.

    "Very pretty," he mumbled reaching out with his hand to caress 
the boys cheek, and then caressed the dimpled chin with a finger, 
before coming up with his thumb and touching the pink petal-like 
lips.  "You dont look Indian," he said, "you're skin is as white as 
snow!"

     "Hmm," the boy said, "and my eyes are like jewels from a distant 
land, no?  And I have silken hair--we read the same books no?"  The 
response was an outright insult and several people took in a breath 
as they watched.  The man's face went under a change--shock seized 
him for a moment and then it brightened up and he laughed.  His teeth 
were white and perfect and he looked like a heavenly being there with 
his handsome face and hair and lively laugh.  

     "You're half chinese, half Indian, I can tell by looking at 
you,"  the man said at last.  "But you got the eyes of a demon.  
Theyre brown --and yet they have an amber underglow. . .like dying 
embers in a hearth."

     The boy was about to respond but then the owner came, a tall 
slender man with long straight black hair and large glassy eyes.  

Before the ownder could speak the strange man spoke:

     "I want him," he said.  "How much? Well no let me just give you 
an offer--I'll give you the price of twenty good arabian horses."

     The owner was flaggergasted, he stammered for a moment and then, 
with a smile, the strange man pulled out a purse attatched to his 
belt, shock-full to the top with gold coins. The owner snatched the 
purse greedily in his hands and mumbled something like "take him," or 
"he's yours,".

     "No wait, no so fast," the man said. "I know you castrate boys 
on your spare time here.  Do me that favor please."

     Lalan suddenly chocked, perhaps on his own spit because then he 
coughed and suddenly turned around and shot off like an arrow out the 
door. The man stood there, amazed at the speed with which the boy 
disappeared and the, a moment later took off after him.  

When he ran out the drinking house he saw Lalan's small figure 
rushing off into the distance in the crowded street before him. The 
man took off after him, dodging a rushing horse and avoiding a 
carriage.  Several people shouted as a fruit stand was knocked over 
and he yelled out an apology without slowing down.  Ahead of him the 
boy leapt over a stray dog, and ran under a trodding horse.  He was 
as lythe as a wild cat and he turned to look back, and when he saw 
that the man was hot on his trail he sped up. When he turned to look 
ahead again a horse suddenly came in front of his path and he reacted 
quickly--leaping up into the air placing his hands on the horses' 
back and flipping over to land on its other side. The man stumbled, 
surprised at the move and then thought better of chasing him 
outright.  Instead he turned into a street and began taking a 
shortcut that would put him right in front of Lalan.

   Moments later he caught Lalan as he ran straight into his arms.  
The boy cursed, gathering a mouthfull of spit before spitting it into 
his captor's face.  

   "This," the man said, "is exactly the reason Im having you cut, 
little devil."

   "Oh, shove it up your hairy ass you cur!"

   This was too much, and then the man put him down on the ground, 
pinning his chest down with his knee as he slapped the boy across 
the  face with the back of his hand.  Blood splattered over the 
ground.  Immediately the man regretted it and he bent close to see 
that he had split the boy's bottom lip.  He touched it gently with a 
finger as the boy stared up at him in amazement.  This act of 
violence calmed Lalan down and the man took the silent figure back to 
the drinking house.  In a back room Lalan was quickly stripped down 
and told to lie down on a table.  He did without a reply, lying on 
his back and spreading his legs as he stared blankly at the ceiling.  
The man watched as the Owner grabbed Lalan's ankles and began to tie 
them roughly to the table, his legs parted wide at each side.  He 
grasped Lalan's wrists and did the same--holding the slender white 
wrists in his filthy wiry hands.  Distaste came to the Man suddenly 
and he told the Owner to stop.  "Leave," he said, "I'll do it myself."

     At this Lalan turned his head and gazed at the man's face.  When 
the Owner left the man approached Lalan slowly and then reached out 
and touched the silken black hair on his head.  "Would you prefer me 
to do it?"

    The boy hesitated, gazing up with his large eyes and then he 
closed them as the man's hand ran down the side of his face, the 
knuckles grazing his lips.  The man turned his gaze suddenly as 
Lala's cock grew thick and hard.  "Should I take that as a yes?" He 
said with a laugh.  The boy opened his eyes then and gulped. 

     "Only if you touch me like that," he said in a hushed voice.  
"Only if you do it without all the crudeness of the Ownder.  Only if 
you promise never to discard me for a new boy afterwards."

     The man's face turned red in a combination of bashfulness and 
flattery.  "Actually,"  he said, "you're my first boy.  Very little 
can catch my attention. . .you happened to be one of them."  

     "Aww how sweet."  The reply was bitter and sarcastic and a snarl 
formed on his lips. 

    "Heaven knows why the hell I find you so beautiful, with that 
poisonous tongue you have, but perhaps its because you look like a 
demon in disguise, or angel in purgatory."  The man let his hand go 
down the boy's torso down to his parted thighs.  He kissed one of 
Lalan's knees and then went down and kissed the tender scrotum.  He 
kissed it gently and then let his tongue dance over it for a moment.  
He heard Lalan's gasp escape his throat.  Then he reached for the 
knife on the small stool beside him and grasped the scrotum and its 
contents in his hand.  He held it firmly, pressing his thumb and 
forefinger tightly at its base.  Lalan whimpered at the discomfort 
And then let out a shuttering breath as the man took half of the 
scrotum in his mouth with one of the balls.  He sucked on it gently 
for a moment and then let it slip out of his mouth--immediatly he 
brought the knife up and dug its tip into the scrotum right about the 
ball and slicing it down in a quick swipe as if he were peeling a 
grape.  Lalan cried out, his legs tensing and the abdoment sucking 
inwards.  The anus tightened in and vanished between the round mounds 
of his buttocks.  The man inserted his finger into the scrotum and 
hooked them around the cords holding the frail balls, he pulled them 
out.  He let them go and they fell against Lalan's skin, white and 
bloody as the empty sack hung next to them.  Something happened then--
this sight made the man become hot and he felt himself harden at it.  
He bent down then and licked at the exposed balls, he took them in 
his mouth and held them there in his cupped tongue for e moment 
before letting them go.  Lalan was in a state of delirium, feeling 
the pain and the strange caresses between his legs combining all 
together.  The man took the knife then and cut the empty sack, 
leaving not even the smallest flap.  Then he took one of the balls 
and pulled making Lalan cry out, his body buckling.  He took the 
knife and sliced the cord as high up as he could, then took the other 
ball and pulled it and cut it as well, letting them down on the table 
between Lalan's legs.  

    Blood was smeared across his fingers as he grasped a heated knife 
and cauterized the raw wound where the testicles once were.  This was 
what finally knocked Lalan into unconscoiusness. 

    Afterwards the man took Lalan to his home and placed him down on 
a large bed, lighting several candles on the table beside it.  He saw 
Lalan's face, beautiful and tranquil in sleep, the lips slightly 
parted  and the white teeth visible behind.  

    He could not explain why he had suddenly chosen to have a boy--or 
to have him castrated, or to do the castration himself. Perhaps it 
was because the sight of such beauty and self confindence quickened 
the savagery in him--and he could not go on without conquering it.  
Taming the fire in this boy and becoming it's captor--forever.