The Boys and the Traveler

The Boy and the Traveller

The year was 1920. A slim boy of about 18, 19 walked along a long road between the moors, which seemed grey due to the weather. A strong wind tormented the countryside and blew the incessant rain in his face, making him soaked to the skin. He was also very hungry and terribly tired.

He had found a lonely farmhouse two hours ago, but an agitated and very unfriendly farmer had chased him off the premises, threatening him with an old hunting rifle. So he just walked on and on, just like the rain fell on and on.

He was in the Border area between England and Scotland and tried to remember how he got here. It seemed ages ago he left home. But he was fed up with the regular beatings, the almost perpetually drunk father and the poverty. Oh yes, his father: the old man detested him for being soft, having feelings, not a real man at all, more like a faggot. So he decided to go and go for ever. He took some clothes, some small belongings to which he was attached and the bit of money he saved with odd jobs, put them in a bag and off he went in the dead of night. He wanted to go north, to Scotland. He always had a special attachment with dogs. They accepted him as he was, had no double agendas and knew no prejudices. So he planned to get a job as farmhand and learn how to train Border Collies. And Scotland, with all it’s sheep, was just the place for that. Besides: he had burned all bridges behind him, so there was no way back. His small savings had almost vanished into thin air, so he had to make it one way or another, by finding a job or by begging, stealing or borrowing. “In for a penny, in for a pound, boy!” he mused bitterly, cursing at the rain and the wind. No matter where he looked: there wasn’t any shelter, no place to dry up and get some sleep, not even a single sheep shed.

His mind was so preoccupied with his thoughts, or should one say his misery, that he didn’t notice that a horse-drawn wagon neared him from behind.

“Trathnona mait!” he heard a raw voice entering his mind.

He turned around with a scared look on his face.

“Sorry, sir…I don’t understand”, he mumbled

“Ah…from down south….well, in that case good evening”, a man said. The boy looked straight in his eyes. They were kind grey eyes. ´The man was on the driver stand of the wooden wagon. It was beautifully carved and had windows at the sides. The man, about forty, was dressed in a long dark coat, which covered him up to his boots and wore a wide-brimmed felt hat. Both glistened from the rain.

“Ye picked a fine time for an evening walk in the country, laddie”, the man smiled.

“No sir….I didn’t pick the time…I just happened to be on my way when the weather changed”.

“Where are ye going to, laddie?”, asked the man with a kind smile.

“Up north, sir”

“Then hop on and I’ll take you up north”.

The boy climbed on the wagon stand and sat beside the man. A scruffy-looking small dog came from the inside of the wagon and sniffed at him, wagging his tail.

“He likes you…”, the man said. He clucked his tongue, the horse started pulling again and off they went.

To be on the wagon stand turned out to be a mixed blessing. On one side he was out of the rain and he could rest his legs from the endless walking, but sitting still and not moving along made him terribly cold. His soaked clothes stuck to his skin and he started to shiver. It became so worse that he even started to clap his teeth. He just felt totally miserable.

The man looked at him worried.

“If we stay on the road much longer you will be ill”, he said, “There’s a shed about half an hour down the road. We’ll stop there for today”.

It seemed that this half an hour to this shed was took an eternity. The boy felt more and more miserable. But finally it appeared and the man stopped the wagon with a “Hooooo…!!”.

“Get inside, laddie…I’ll take care of the horse first.”

The boy went in the wagon and looked around with an astonished look on his face. The interior was beautifully carved and painted. In the front side there was some kind of kitchen with some wooden furniture and pots and pans. But everything looked spotlessly clean and well cared for. His outlook into the rest of the wagon was limited by a partition wall at the other side of the front section. Although curious he felt it was not very polite to start sniffing around behind it, being here as a guest.

After a while the man came in and looked at his puzzled face. The dog followed him.

“Ay…”, he chuckled, “I know that everybody thinks that travelers are dirty fools. But that isn’t true, laddie. At least not with me. Oh well, it saves you maintaining one prejudice”.

“Sorry sir”, the boy stuttered, “It wasn’t meant disrespectful.”

“Oh well, that’s OK…what’s yer name, laddie?”

“I’m Jamie, sir”.

“Nice to meet you, Jamie. I’m Collin. Now let me put the stove on first to get you warm and dry and then it is time for a bite to eat.”

Jamie’s face cheered up at the last remark.

“Oh, that makes you happy, isn’t it? How long was it since your last meal?”

Jamie thought it over. He stole an apple from a tree along the way. How long had that been? Two days?

“I guess about two days, sir”, he answered truthfully.

“Well, then you must be starving”, was the reply.

Jamie noticed that Collin had a distinct Scottish accent, as much as his own accent was Geordie.

Collin fumbled about and got the stove burning. The warmth through the cabin, while he was already grabbing pots and pans to make a meal.

“Won’t be anything fancy, laddie. Just stew and bread”.

The meal was ready in about half an hour and Jamie looked at the full, damping plate of stew in front of him and started swallowing the food. It tasted good, no: it tasted delicious. In the mean time Collin put a kettle of water on the stove.

When the boy had finished his meal, Collin took a pipe, stuffed it and lighted it with a match.

“So, what were ye doing along the road with this weather? I don’t think it was for fun.”, he asked almost offhanded, puffing vigorously on this pipe

Jamie looked at him with frightened, startled eyes. Collin just nodded and said:

“Aye, I got the point. Ye’re a runaway. Already thought something like that”.

Jamie dropped his eyes and said “Yes, sir” in a low, barely audible voice.

He felt how he started to shiver again, despite the relative warmth of the burning stove. His clothes were still wet and they spread an unpleasant chill over his whole body.

Collin looked at him and without saying anything he took the kettle from the stove and poured the warm water in a bucket. Then he disappeared behind the partition wall, coming back in a few seconds with a towel.

“Get these clothes off, laddie”, he ordered, “If you sit in them any longer you are really going to be sick.”

Jamie looked at him with an astonished and almost fearful gaze.

“Oh, come on, don’t be a prissy”, Collin insisted.

Slowly Jamie took of his clothes, leaving only his underwear on. It didn’t seem to satisfy Collin, who growled:

“Come on, laddie, your underwear is also soaked wet. Take it off! There are no lassies in here”.

Jamie hesitated but finally his underwear went off, leaving him naked in the light of the lamp over the table. His skin was completely wet and glistened. He held his hands before his dick, which felt utterly small from cold but also from feeling ashamed and uncertain.

Collin started washing him with warm water. It felt wonderful. His hands went tenderly over his neck, his back and his belly and somehow Jamie felt like warming up at last. Collin’s hand went lower and stroke playfully over his dick. It gave him a funny but pleasant thrilling sensation in his groin and he felt how the part grew in small shocks.

“You like that, don’t you, laddie?”, Collin asked with a chuckle.

He was turned around and Collin dedicated his attention to washing his buttocks, but…also in between them, causing shivers of lust over his spine. Did this mean that his old man was right? That he really was a faggot?

Collin seemed to ignore his bodily reactions, took the towel and rubbed him dry, but again with special attention for his dick and the space between the buttocks. For the first time in weeks Jamie felt great…clean, warm, but also still very tired, Collin seemed to read this fatigue, because when he finished rubbing he said:

“And now off to bed. If you haven’t eaten in two days you haven’t slept well for two days or maybe even longer.”

He grabbed the boy by the hand and took him through the door in the partition wall. Jamie looked around. It was even more beautiful than the kitchen, Colorful carpets lay on the floor and in the rear was a bed in an alcove, covered with white sheets and colored blankets.. Collin put him in bed, stroke over his head and put some blankets over him. Softly the man kissed him on the forehead and put the light out. As soon as he left the room Jamie fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

He woke up in what might have been the middle of the night, but it could also have been after only an hour. He didn’t know. The only thing he knew was that it was pitch dark and that someone was in the bed with him. And he felt that the other was as naked as he was, It must have been Collin. His heart bumped in his throat, but it was from mixed feelings: fear and apprehension. He felt a finger stroking over his back towards his buttocks and a hand that played with his balls and dick. And he felt kissing lips in his neck. He turned around and exclaimed:

“But sir, what are you doing?”

The reply came in a soft, soothing voice: “I’m loving you, sweet angel Jamie!”.

His father popped up in his mind and it made him uneasy. But he also had to admit he liked the bodily and very sensual attention.

It must have been Collin, nobody else was in the wagon. The man threw away the blankets and lighted a small lamp beside the bed. Jamie laid there, in all his nakedness and saw his javelin had grown to substantial proportions.

Collin bent over and put his head between Jamie’s legs. Tenderly he kissed the boy’s dickhead and looked him in the eyes.

“I want to taste your youthful foal-like sperm in my mouth”, he moaned.

With that he took the whole dick in his mouth and started to suck it. Jamie didn’t know what was happening to him, but he was sure it felt delicious. And as all young boys his age his explosion came soon enough. It vibrated through his body while his sperm flooded in Collin’s mouth, wave after wave.

“Oh Collin, this feels so beautiful…”, he moaned. It was the first time his sperm had come out due to other man’s actions, not from just jerking.

“Aye…and your sperm tastes delicious, sweet angel”, was the reply

“There are more beautiful things to come, my love”, whispered Collin.

He turned the boy around and stroke his buttocks gently and tenderly. One of his fingers slipped in between, sending the same shivers as before along the boy’s spine. Jamie had difficulty in regulating his breathing. Collin’s finger slipped in his hole and the shivers only became more and more intense.

Collin laid himself on top of Jamie and pushed his dickhead against the boy’s entrance.

“I don’t want to hurt you, sweet angel…I just want you to enjoy it enormously”, he whispered in Jamie’s ear.

With that he pushed his dickhead into the boy…slowly, millimeter for millimeter, gently and cautiously. Jamie felt a short pang of pain in him, but it subsided soon enough. The only thing he felt was the thick dick in him, warm and kind and greedy, like a sweet predator hunting for his virginity. He felt every small blood vessel in it trembling and vibrating and he loved the feeling. Finally somebody wanted him, desired him. Collin started thrusting in him, first gently but he went wilder and wilder. It hurt a little, but Jamie was beyond pain. There was just pure lust and desire. And then the man just growled with pleasure and Jamie felt his cream spreading in him, a wonderful warm feeling of spreading love lava.

“Aaaaahhhhh….Collin…..stay in me, please”, he murmured.

Collin obliged, staying in him until his dick went limp again and just slipped out of the boy.

Jamie turned around and looked Collin in the eyes. Tears were filling his own eyes.

“Did I hurt you, sweet angel?”, the man asked worried

Jamie shook his head.

“Then why are you crying, sweet laddie love of mine?”

“Because I think my old man is right. I am a faggot. I mean, I really loved what you just did to me.”

Collin shook his head.

“Nay!! In the first place, little angel: it doesn’t matter if you experience this feeling with a man or a woman. It is about love and about caring for each other. And secondly: I don’t like the word faggot. It is meant to hurt and insult people. And I don’t like hurting people. I prefer the official term of homosexual. Besides: why stick labels? We are all people and we just will have to do with the feelings we have got, despite the fact that others don’t share these feelings, even worse: they reject them. I don’t share their feelings, but doesn’t give me the right to reject them. That’s the way I became a traveler. I’m too much of a free thinker to settle down in one spot and succumb to the general opinion.”

But Jamie didn’t give in that fast. He thought it over and remembered something he had learnt at school.

“But…”, he started hesitantly, “God condemned what we just did”.

He heard a tired and dejected laugh, followed by a deep sigh.

“Nay, nay, my love. God didn’t condemn anything. It are the vicars and bishops who have stigmatized and denounced our group of people as immoral and repulsive. They spread their hatred from their pulpits and have brainwashed their opinions as the only moral truth in the minds of the normal people, so that nowadays everyone denounces us. I see it this way: God thinks it is OK, since it based on love. Oh yes, there is also lust! But that is the same between a man and a woman: love and lust. As long as love is involved, God has no objections, because they always say God is love. In other words: what we just did, is God!”.

With that he put the light out, pulled Jamie on his chest and caressed the boy’s back in a soothing manner. They laid there in the dark, enjoying each other’s warmth, each other’s scent and each other’s attention. Jamie enjoyed it tremendously, all this warmth and love, which came as an avalanche over him in this pitch dark night.

Don’t ask me where the voyage together ended. It might be the Isle of Skye or Wick, Caithness or maybe even Jura or Lewis It might end at any other far flung place in the Highlands.. Or did they at some time cross the sea and end up in Donegal? And certainly don’t ask me if the voyage ended at the ultimate place where all voyages together end: the graveyard. And did Jamie achieve his goal to be a Border Collie trainer? I don’t know….yet!! But I’ll think it over and see if I can continue the story of the Boy and the Traveller if you guys want me to.