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.