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    Rigby Taylor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Sebastian Sanspere - 6. Guapo Discovers Nature

Half an hour after Sebastian returned from school the following day, he heard the garage doors open. Ensuring he was invisible to anyone in the garage below, he watched from the pool pump-house as a car drove down the ramp. The garage doors closed and Jack got out followed by an obviously nervous, naked young man.

‘Jack, I’m sure this can’t be right. I’m perfectly well now and don’t need to spend a week with some snotty nosed teenager. And seriously, you can’t expect me to just go in naked.’

‘It’s all part of your psychological grounding. The doctor explained it to you. Your brain feels Okay, but your body is rebelling. Tomorrow you and Sebastian are going to endure a physical challenge, a weekend of tramping, discovering nature and rough living. If you get through that then you’ve recovered. Now go through that door and up the stairs and press the bell to the left of the door.’

When the fellow had closed the lower door behind him, Jack used his remote to open the garage doors and backed out.

The bell rang and Sebastian walked slowly to open it.

An obviously nervous young man who looked to be in his early twenties, held out a hand.

‘Hi, I’m Guapo Dauntless.’

‘Sebastian Sanspere.’

They shook hands and Sebastian liked the firm, dry grip.

‘I’m glad you’re naked too. Otherwise I’d feel silly.’

‘Why? You've a good body.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Fancy a swim?’

‘You bet.’ They walked through to Sebastian’s bedroom so Guapo could orientate, then out to the patio and pool. Guapo dived in, then swam to the side, face in pain.

‘Fuck! My balls!’

Sebastian laughed. ‘You've got to keep your legs apart so they have somewhere to go and don’t smash against your legs when the water hits them. I also learned the hard way.’

‘Bastard, you could have warned me.’

After an hour of swimming lengths in silence they lay on the grass beside the pool. Guapo stretched out in the sun. Sebastian considered himself quite dark enough so lay in the shade, studying his guest. Medium height, stocky and solidly built. Good, lightly hairy legs. A patch of hair in the middle of his chest wasn’t attractive. Everything else was on the good side of average. No spare tyre. Face wide and round rather than oval with widely spaced eyes. The back of his head was almost flat. A good nose and strong, thick neck. Jaw line satisfactory—no incipient double chin, and the mouth was firm. Guapo turned his head and fixed cold eyes on his host.

‘What are you staring at? Tonight’s fuck? Is that what this is all about? Free fucks for the boss’s favourite son?’

‘Do you want me to fuck you?’

‘No.’

‘Then I won’t. And I’m not the boss’s favourite anything. I detest Farzdbuk. He’s my mother’s boss and we do as he tells us. According to Jack it’s to help you recov…’

‘Yes, I’ve had all the psychological shit, thanks. Is this your first time?’

‘No, you’re the tenth.’

‘And does it work?’

‘Seems to. At least when the guys leave here they all seem reasonably well balanced and no longer have nightmares.’

‘And after that?’

‘Good question. None have ever contacted me again, even though we became friends.’

‘You’re not bad looking. Great body. I’m jealous.’

‘You’re much stronger than me. How old are you?’

‘Twenty-four. And you?’

‘Just turned seventeen. Usually the guys we take in are around my age; runaways who've been set on by thugs. You’re too old to fit that category. What happened?’

‘I’ve no idea. I’m a freelance photographer from Melbourne. Been here three months. I was working on a photo essay about winter in the tropics when I noticed a large number of obviously wealthy oriental men arriving and departing from a five star hotel at the northern end of the Esplanade. Sometimes the stretch limos were queuing up. Whenever I had a spare moment I’d go there and see what was happening, hoping for a story to back up the photos.

‘There seemed to be two sorts of guest. Some were overfed and healthy, but occasionally there’d be some old codger who looked almost dead. Being a naturally nosy prick, I wore my camera like a tourist, took photos, and noted their movements. There were always several sexy young men and women in the foyer, and after a short wait they would be summoned upstairs where they stayed about an hour. I guess they were call girls and escorts. Rather them than me!’

‘You sure are a nosy bugger!’ Sebastian laughed. ‘What made you think it’d make a good story?’

‘Good question. It just felt wrong somehow, especially when the sickly tourists usually left the same day in what looked like an ambulance – but didn’t have the usual markings. I just hoped that if I could piece the bits together I’d have something worth selling. But a couple of shaven headed thugs put the kibosh on that when they punched me in the guts, shoved a bag over my head, thrust me into a car and took me to a concrete room somewhere. I don’t know how long I was tied up, sometimes used as a punch bag or dartboard when they got bored. They didn’t wear masks and seemed not to want anything. I told them my parents were poor so there was no hope of a ransom, but they just said to shut the fuck up or they’d sew my lips together. They would have too!’

Guapo looked away, swallowed and sniffed slightly, determined not to cry. Sebastian remained silent in an agony of pity. No one should be treated like that.

‘I see their faces in nightmares, so apologies in advance if you lose any sleep. I’d given up hope of surviving when one night the place was busted by cops in black gear and balaclavas who said they’d been watching these guys for a while and were expecting drugs, not a naked, near corpse.

‘They took me to a private hospital where I met the unlovely but generous benefactor of lost boys, Mr. Farzdbuk, and was sewn back together by his excellent doctor and taken care of for a few weeks by a couple of male nurses. Then Jack arrived yesterday and briefed me on the next stage of my recovery, promising a job at the end if I did as I was told. End of story.’

‘So that’s how you got those,’ Sebastian said, pointing at almost healed scars on Guapo’s back and belly.

‘Yeah. They’re fading fast. The doctor says they’ll be invisible in a week. Mostly whip cuts, punctures from darts, cuts and cigarette burns. Except for this.’ He pointed to a narrow dark red scar. ‘I was lucky to have been found in time, the doctor reckons. This was a deep stab that nearly punctured my stomach. If the acid had leaked I’d have digested myself. I was hungry enough, having had nothing but dry bread and water.’

‘What did they want? Sex?’

‘That’s the strange thing. They did nothing except hurt me, the few times they came in. Didn’t ask for anything. Not even my name. At the time I didn’t think about it, but now it’s beginning to really bug me. Who were they and why? And there was something about those cops that didn’t ring true.’

‘What?’

‘No idea—but something.’

Seb put his fingers to his lips. ‘Hear that? It’s Mum’s car entering the garage. Come on, I want to show you something.’

They crouched in the dark pump house and watched Desolé get out of the car, lean back in and press the remote to close the door, then totter towards the stairs.

‘That’s my mother.’

“She looks really old and tired. Will you go and open the door for her?’

‘No way! She’s made no noise so how would I know she was there? This spy hole is a secret. No one must ever know they can be seen from here! Understood?’

‘Yes, Sir, sorry sir.’

‘It’s no joke! I’ve a bad feeling! So promise!’

Shocked by Sebastian’s intensity, Guapo nodded anxiously. ‘I promise. I really promise.’

 

Desolé rang caterers who brought a three-course meal on disposable plates. She decorated the table with candles, opened a bottle of white wine, and played the perfect hostess until, pleading a headache, she left the ‘boys’ to clean up and amuse themselves. Guapo lay on the bed and watched TV while Sebastian did his homework because there'd not be time over the weekend. After a short swim, they retired to bed and Sebastian worked his magic as a masseur. It had never failed before, and didn’t fail this time. Within half an hour Guapo was asleep, lying on his back and snoring slightly.

At about two in the morning, Sebastian was wakened by muffled cries and whimpering. He rolled over and stroked and cuddled and cajoled until they both fell back to sleep.

In the morning he was awoken by someone sucking softly on his erection.

Guapo looked up, embarrassed. ‘Sorry. You really are too beautiful to ignore, and I was suddenly hungry, and having read that semen is full of nutrients and vitamins and protein, I…’

Sebastian was silent.

‘Look, I’m really sorry. Please forgive me.’

‘Not unless you finish what you started.’

Sebastian’s whimpers of release were overheard by his mother who was drinking her morning coffee on the patio outside the open French windows of her son’s bedroom. Her smug, self-satisfied smile would have earned her a punch on the nose, had anyone been there to see it.

After breakfast they were driven by Jack to a private rainforest, part of Farzdbuk’s domain, and dumped, bare-arsed and footed to make their way to a hut where they’d find food and somewhere to sleep. Sebastian had made the trek nine times before, so a map wasn’t necessary. Jack didn’t get out of the car because it had been raining and the ground was muddy.

‘Okay, you're on your own, so take care. See you tomorrow.’ With a nod he swung the car round and took off, leaving Sebastian delighted and Guapo very nervous. No clothes, food, shoes, or even a phone! What would happen if…?

They set off up an increasingly steep and rocky track. Dense cloud prevented severe sunburn but the humidity and temperatures were so high it was like wading through the steam room of a Turkish bath.

They soon reached the forest where Sebastian warned Guapo about somnolent snakes, leeches, and the terrible Gympie-Gympie bush, Dendrocnide moroides whose silica tipped leaves cause agonising stings that last for months. They followed the overgrown trail ever upwards towards the apparently vertical wall of the escarpment. A stiff climb through giant granite boulders brought them to the top of a ridge where they inspected stubbed toes, grazes and sore feet before admiring the view of tree tops and the sea shimmering far away on the horizon. A pinkish haze indicated the city. Only bird calls and cicadas broke the silence.

‘It’s liberating, isn’t it? Guapo said with a slow smile.

‘What?’

‘Hiking naked, carrying nothing, not even matches or a knife. It makes us as free as wild animals. And it isn’t even embarrassing knowing you’re looking up my arse as we climb.’

‘It's an attractive arse, no haemorrhoids or dags, so what’s to be embarrassed about? As for being like wild animals, they don’t have food and shelter waiting for them at the end of the trail, they have to search and kill their own.’

‘Spoilsport. But you know what I mean.’

‘I’ve known it since I could crawl, but few people understand liberty, let alone desire it.’

‘You’re right. They can’t wait to join the scouts, the footy team, get a steady job, spouse and two kids, house in the suburbs, giant mortgage, pension fund and life insurance.’

‘Not to mention funeral insurance.’

‘Okay, I won’t mention it.’

The track led down to a watercourse and several small pools; enough to drink from and splash each other cool. Another, much steeper climb to an even higher ridge had Guapo staggering.

‘It shames me to admit it, but this is the first time I’ve ever been bush walking. And I’m nowhere near as fit as you!’

‘You've been ill, so take it easy, I don’t want to have to carry you.’

It seemed further than Sebastian remembered, perhaps because Guapo’s blistered feet and exhaustion were slowing them down, but his guest lived up to his surname and remained undaunted, uncomplaining and cheerful, insisting he was happy just to be alive in this wonderful spot.

‘I don’t care if I drop dead at this moment,’ he said softly when they paused to admire the view and listen to the birds. ‘This place is so beautiful I’d dream enchanted thoughts through eternity.’

‘I like you, Guapo Dauntless,’ Sebastian said seriously.

‘I like you too, Sebastian Sanspere,’ his new friend said equally seriously.

They were hungry, thirsty and tired when the tiny stone cabin appeared round a bend in the track. A long soak in a waterhole just below the building relieved most of the itches, soreness and dust, and then they devoured a plateful each of cold meat, bread and papaya, leaving boiled eggs, bread and bananas for breakfast.

Exhaustion set in soon after darkness and they fell asleep on top of the large blanket. In the middle of the night it became chilly so they wrapped themselves in it and slept till dawn.

‘I had no nightmares!’ Guapo announced proudly the following morning. ‘This therapy seems to be working.’

Sebastian only smiled.

After breakfast and a lengthy dip in the pool they set off again. This time there was a swamp to wade through, leeches to scrape off, mosquitoes to murder, biting ants and a patch of scratchy lantana to get through before they arrived at another pool large enough to swim in. Then it was easy walking downhill to the edge of the forest.

‘I don’t want to leave the trees,’ Guapo said sadly. ‘I hate the idea of civilisation and other people. I want to live for the rest of my life in the forest. I was born several thousand years too late.’

At the bottom of a long slope lay a sprawling house; square, white stucco, modern, like a sterile sarcophagus on the stony earth. As they approached they could see half a dozen men in shorts lounging under umbrellas around a pool, being served by waiters in dinner suits, and guarded by six over-muscled pugilists in jeans and T-shirts; guns visible in shoulder holsters.

‘That’s odd. Usually the place is empty and Jack’s waiting.’

They’d been seen, so had no alternative but to let themselves through the gate in the fence around the pool area. The six men and their minders stared at them silently.

‘Ah, Sebastian,’ Mr. Farzdbuk wheezed as he wandered out of the house. In a suit he was flabby. In nothing but flowered baggy shorts and unflattering sunlight he was a dietician’s nightmare. A heart attack with a great dropsical head and two fat pearly hands. Between the rolls of flesh that surrounded them, peered out two black eyes projecting avarice and cruelty. A mean and miserable soul that had refused itself nothing was imprisoned in all that lard. He was his own bitter jailer, but thought himself fortunate.

‘Don’t go in the pool. You're both filthy. Come in and get those scratches attended to and take a shower.’

‘Where’s Jack?’

‘Held up.’

His tone did not invite further questions, so Sebastian and Guapo followed Farzdbuk inside, where Gerald, a nurse from the hospital, directed them to the showers and afterwards put disinfectant on scratches and rubbed soothing cream into bruised feet.

‘You’re bloody fit, the pair of you,’ he said admiringly. ‘I can’t believe you, Guapo, only two weeks since I first saw you looking like a corpse.’

‘Thanks to you and the others,’ Guapo smiled. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am.’

‘Grateful enough to do a little something for me, I hope,’ wheezed Farzdbuk as he came in to the bathroom.

‘Anything,’ Guapo declared without thinking.

‘Good. Come with me.’

They went to a well-appointed bedroom along the corridor where a bulbous oriental of about forty-five was lying naked on the bed.

‘This is Mr. Chai,’ Farzdbuk said unctuously. ‘He saw you arrive and wants to get to know you. I said you’d be delighted to let him. He comes from Huang Chow, a most interesting city. I’ll leave you to get acquainted.’ He left, closing the door behind him.

Blood drained from Guapo’s system. He began to shiver. He’d sometimes wondered how young guys could bear to let old men slobber over them for money. He wasn’t even sure he was gay, despite having performed fellatio on Sebastian that morning. He still didn’t understand how he’d dared, putting it down to post traumatic stress. He’d never had the slightest interest in girls or other men, so assumed he was asexual. This gigantic puddle of fat on the bed was so utterly repellent Guapo felt sick and terrified.

‘Come here,’ leered the reclining Buddha from his couch, extending an arm and beckoning seductively.

Like an automaton Guapo shuffled forward.

With a surprising turn of speed, Mr. Chai reached out, grasped his prey’s penis firmly, dragged him forward, then reached round and thrust a finger against the startled young man’s anus.

‘I am going to fuck you,’ he said calmly, ‘get down on your knees.’

Guapo’s reflexes finally switched on and without thinking he wrapped both hands round the neck of his would-be raper and squeezed until his penis was released. Mr. Chai, eyes bulging in shock, turned to the wall and slammed his hand on a button that summoned Farzdbuk and a giant bodyguard who grabbed Guapo, shoved an arm up his back and put a throttle hold round his neck.

‘He tried to kill me!’ screeched the furious fat man. ‘Kill him!’

‘I will kill him, personally,’ said Farzdbuk softly after Guapo had been dragged out. ‘And I’ll send you his testicles and a video to prove it.’

His guest’s smile was evil.

Sebastian was furious when he saw Guapo being manhandled, and ordered the guard to release him. He was obeyed, albeit reluctantly; Farzdbuk’s goons were never sure about Sebastian’s status.

‘A fat pig wanted to fuck me!’ Guapo said breathlessly. ‘I couldn't! I know I said I’d do anything, but I couldn't.’ He turned to Farzdbuk who had just entered. ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Farzdbuk, I really wanted to do something for you but… I couldn't. I’m not a prostitute and never want to be! I...’

To everyone’s surprise Farzdbuk patted him on the shoulder and said not to worry, it was a terrible misunderstanding. Someone had told him Guapo had been an escort, so it was Farzdbuk who should apologise. His smile, which exposed too many perfectly arranged teeth, never faltered as he suggested that Guapo and Sebastian should leave quietly and wait down by the gate.

Guapo remained despondent and felt alarmingly vulnerable standing naked by a gateway in the middle of nowhere. All joy in the weekend adventure dissipated as the two young men mulled over the unpleasant incident. Sebastian didn’t trust Farzdbuk’s apology, but kept his fears to himself until Jack finally arrived to take them home.

When he learned what had happened, Jack laughed and said not to worry, but Sebastian and Guapo were unable to stop worrying.

‘Will we tell your mother?’

Sebastian thought for a few seconds. ‘No way! I don’t trust her. She’s too thick with fat old Farzdbuk.’

Copyright © 2018 Rigby Taylor; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Ugh major creep factor! Chill went down my spine after meeting him for the first time! Macfife has nothing on farzdbuk!

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Doesnt Farzdbuk just reek of trusworthy, sincere humanity? Somehow the Desolé/Farzdbuk axis seems pure evil. I do fear for Seb; while i am sure he'll get out alive, i just know you have designed some dramatic physical and emotional testing for him.....

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12 hours ago, Wesley8890 said:

Ugh major creep factor! Chill went down my spine after meeting him for the first time! Macfife has nothing on farzdbuk!

"Major Creep Factor" I love it. You're right about Farzbuk - Always out to make a fast buck, any way he can. I posted this yesterday, but it seems to have got lost. 

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6 hours ago, Canuk said:

Doesnt Farzdbuk just reek of trusworthy, sincere humanity? Somehow the Desolé/Farzdbuk axis seems pure evil. I do fear for Seb; while i am sure he'll get out alive, i just know you have designed some dramatic physical and emotional testing for him.....

I'm pleased you're enjoying the Desolé/Farzbuk duo, I wonder if you've got inside my mind? I'll have to become more opaque. How do you put accents on this comment panel? I have to compose on 'Word' then copy and paste. This time I copied yours and pasted. 

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Initially i used ascii codes. However my completely technologically  illiterate but bi lingual partner showed me on samsung devices if you "hold" the letter down you get a range of acutes, cedillas, graves, circumflexes and all sorts of things that foreigners feel they need to enhance their language!

 

As to being in your mind....i had a peak and left in a hurry....😨⚘

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3 hours ago, Canuk said:

As to being in your mind....i had a peak and left in a hurry....😨⚘

Oh dear! Do you suffer from acrophobia? I realise I have an extremely elevated intellect, but hadn't realised its effect on others. Next time take a peek instead of a peak and you might not suffer. :2thumbs:

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3 hours ago, Canuk said:

on samsung devices if you "hold" the letter down you get a range of acutes, cedillas, graves, circumflexes and all sorts of things that foreigners feel they need to enhance their language!

Oh very cutting.  Yes!!!! you clever boy! My iMac does the same thing! How utterly wonderful... all those years inserting from a drop down menu... Ah. Comme j'étais bête!   Ha! that was all done by holding down the keys! :funny: 

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On 3/18/2018 at 4:11 PM, Rigby Taylor said:

 You're right about Farzbuk - Always out to make a fast buck, any way he can. 

So is Farzbuk -Fast buck? The only thing I’ve come up with so far is Farts butt, and that just doesn’t seem right...

Guapo held up well to the barefoot hike. What was waiting at the end was not so great. I hope Guapo doesn’t disappear without a trace like Sebastian’s previous companions.

 

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Actually, there's a 'd' in Farzdbuk that makes it sound the way an Australian -- says fast buck.  I am guilty of spelling it incorrectly in my response to Wesley. But Farts buck is eminently suitable. Yes indeed -- Guapo [handsome in Spanish]  had better be very careful.

Edited by Rigby Taylor
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Off topic... Macfife — Make filth? :huh:

Can’t think of anything for the Alconas, except it seems like it should be All and then something referring to nudity. 

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6 hours ago, sef said:

Off topic... Macfife — Make filth? :huh:

Can’t think of anything for the Alconas, except it seems like it should be All and then something referring to nudity. 

It was my first novel and I hadn't started playing with names -- apart from Scumble [a way of applying paint] and Glaze [ varnish]. You have an inventive streak.  😄

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